


Renegade

by vanerz



Series: Renegade [1]
Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Arrogant Douchebags, Character Development, Death, Drugs, Dysfunctional Family, Football | Soccer, Friendship, Fudou likes skulking in alleyways, Gangs, Gen, Not Entirely Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 62,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanerz/pseuds/vanerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to hit rock bottom before you can appreciate what you had, and reach for what you want. This is Fudou Akio's journey from Shin Teikoku to Inazuma Japan. Updated with 2016 edits!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Side of a Bullet

" _You're_ the useless one.

"I told you to gather first-rate players. But all of the players you found are second-rate... Including yourself."

"Second-rate? Me, second-rate!?"

"You're not fit for me if you can't get past your own problems." Those dismissive words were damning in their truth. "You tried to use me and only fought as a member of Shin Teikoku to defeat Raimon so that _that_ person would acknowledge you."

Kageyama sneered. "Give me back the meteorite. You won't be needing it anymore."

¥

Commander Kageyama gave him 5 minutes to leave the sub. Fudou was already out the door by second 10, shoulders quivering in anger and fists balled up tightly. As he fled from the helm, he dug his fingernails into his palm and made himself take deep breaths so that he wouldn't explode and punch the wall instead. After all, that crazy bastard was going to down the ship whether he threw a tantrum or not, and he would rather be alive then.

From the Commander's room, he shimmied down the escape ladder like the Devil was after him, gripping the rungs with unsteady hands. He practically jumped down the rungs, losing his grip once and tumbling a few feet downwards before finally catching himself. Fudou continued to descend almost in a panic, nearly losing grip again a couple of times in his haste. Intermittent patches of sunlight, caused by the commander opening the hatch, shifted around and chased his descending figure.

He took the last stretch in a leap, jumping down from an impossible height and landing on two feet. Though his knees bent practically to the ground to absorb the impact, Fudou couldn't avoid a sharp burst of pain blossoming in his feet, ankle and knees. But he didn't have time to feel sorry for himself. Time was ticking and he didn't know how much he had left.

As he crossed the gymnasium to get to the stairway leading to the mess hall, his teammates finally came to mind. Sakuma and Genda had been swiftly evacuated due to their injuries, but he'd seen the rest of them running into the changing rooms as he went up to talk to Kageyama. Those fools! To warn them, he would need to make a detour there. But the changing rooms were far below the football field, and he would have to double back. Fudou checked the gym clock in a frenzy—3, maybe 3 and a half minutes left. He didn't have time.

He grit his teeth and kept running.

Only to bump into some of his teammates gathered at the door, panting hard from their escape from the authorities. The slower ones straggled up the stairway and only caught a glimpse of him as he rushed past them up the many flights of stairs.

"Oi, Fudou!" Gouin shouted, but he kept on running. Let them see him with his tail between his legs. He'd ditch them all once this was over, so what would their last impression of him matter anyway?

"Captain! Where're you going?"

A shrill voice from somewhere below him made him skid to a stop, if only for a moment.

"Get out of here!" he yelled down at them. "No time! C'mon!" He started to run again, through the doorway, heading for the door at the end of the mass of tables. "He's gonna blow it up!" he added, his voice going high. Off he went again, without waiting to see if his teammates had heard.

As he ran, Fudou thanked the gods more than once that the cleaning staff hadn't polished the floor too much. One slip would cost him precious time and even his life, but he didn't fall even once and finally cleared the first room. He didn't dare to look at the clock now—it wouldn't help him at all and would only waste time. All he could do now was hope that he still had enough time to get out of here.

Finally approaching the end of the second room, he slowed, suddenly becoming aware of the rapid footsteps a ways behind him. Fudou keyed in the code and wrenched the door open. He only took the time to leave it ajar before disappearing through the corridor like a snake down a hole.

He weaved expertly through the machinery and tanks that helped the submarine run. The first right here, pass two machines, then another right turn... There was a lone guy sitting at a desk operating one of the consoles, but at the sight of Fudou in his urgency he immediately jumped up and ran with him.

Fudou elbowed him out of the way to take the lead. "Open the hatch!" he hissed to the technician before he leaped onto the escape ladder with the ferocity of a wildcat.

The final stretch was the hardest. Fudou's muscles were burning as he attempted to jump rungs, propelling his body forward to take two or even three at a time. His fingers scrabbled for the furthest rung possible to pull him up while his feet searched wildly for support. He reached the inner hatch and jumped off the ladder like it was hot coals, spinning to the left and just flat out slapping the button to open the outer hatch, the route to freedom.

The outer hatch slowly opened, and he started to scale the final escape ladder. The Commander's exchange with Kidou and the detective slowly became clearer and it reverberated and bounced down the chamber. Fudou grew sicker at the stomach as he heard every grotesque, amplified word. The Commander had never let go of Kidou, even after instructing Fudou to destroy him. He'd given Shin Teikoku this mission knowing that they would fail. The sub suddenly rocked, and Fudou heard the explosion a few moments later.

Shit.

Screams and yells came from below, but this only urged Fudou on quicker until he reached open air.

Rolling to a side, he took several quick breaths, choking on the sharp smell of salt in the air mixed with the acrid smell of smoke. His coughing attack turned into hyperventilating as the magnitude of the situation finally struck him. All the sensations that his body had suppressed in the minutes prior rushed at him in an instant, and he reeled, feeling pain in his muscles and panic in his mind. Behind him, the lab tech emerged, followed by the first few remaining members of Shin Teikoku. They boarded a waiting dinghy, and it wasn't until somebody shoved him roughly that he jolted and dumbly followed them.

In the distance, he heard Kidou's wild cry of rage, and registered him being carried off by the detective in a helicopter. But Kidou was quickly growing irrelevant now. The men in suits aboard their dinghy were rowing away from the sub as quickly as they could. All their lives depended on it. On shore, ambulances were just beginning to arrive and the sound of the sirens drowned in and out of his mind.

They were at a distance, the submarine exploded, and Fudou was in shock. 

¥

They tended to him at hospital just enough to make sure that he could go through questioning. The two grim-looking detectives poked and prodded at his relationship with the Commander. They asked him how he managed to enrol at Shin Teikoku despite the steep costs. ("Sports scholarship.") They asked him if he'd known about Kageyama's prickly past with Raimon. ("Not at all.") They asked him just what the exact nature of the purple pendant he'd been spotted wearing was. ("Decoration?")

The detectives were understandably frustrated. They told him the implications of his actions. He was obstructing justice. He was acting as an accomplice to attempted murder and causing explosion. And that wasn't counting the things he'd done already. He was lucky to escape criminal conviction. They'd rattled off a huge list of the crimes he'd supposedly committed. Assault causing grievous bodily harm. Child abuse. Criminal damage to property. Permitting an escape of a criminal. Being an accomplice to crime. Obstruction of justice. The list went on. It was only because of his age and the fact that he'd helped innocents escape that he wasn't charged with these offences. In fact, he was lucky that it had been the school holidays and the rest of the school hadn't been there.

And so the blame train started up again. It was all he could do not to laugh. 

¥

He didn't feel like laughing anymore when they left him alone to face his family's disappointment. His father picked him up from the station, grovelling for a few minutes to the officers for good measure. In the taxi, his mother was crying as she waited. Not the loud wails of the bereaved, or even dainty sobs punctuated by hiccups. Tears just rolled down her face, and she let them. She stared bleakly ahead of her, and didn't meet his gaze.

His parents sat on opposite sides of him on the journey home. He looked ahead at the rolling scenery and tried not to be suffocated by their silence. No, that wasn't right. He could sense the unspoken sentiments, both from his parents and himself, but he wasn't ready to talk about the situation yet, especially not with a stranger around. His mind was still reeling from what had happened between the Commander, Kidou, Raimon, Shin Teikoku, that damn match, and the moment when goddamn Sakuma had lost control and ruined everything. He was a mess right now, a tightly contained, volatile one, and he wasn't ready to clean himself up.

When the taxi pulled up to his street, Fudou mutely followed his parents past the gate and through the doorway. The only thing he could really do was to ignore the stares of the neighbours. Once inside the house, he made a beeline for his own room, and stayed there for the rest of the night. 

¥

He found the first few text messages waiting for him when he woke up the next day. Somehow, someone out there had found his mobile number and probably posted it up on the Internet or something. Raimon had been getting lots of fans since they were saving Japan from aliens or something, after all. He'd seen this kind of harassment happening in TV shows and movies, but he'd never thought that it would happen to him.

Most of the texts were the same. Some were plain abusive and others were heavily splashed with a tone of superiority. Some texts practically gave him lectures and in others he detected just the faintest hints of pity. They made him sick to his stomach, and he chucked his phone into a corner.

He stayed in his room for the next two weeks, going to the bathroom only when his parents weren't around. His meals were delivered to outside his door while he brooded inside and tried to fix the sudden lack of purpose in his life. His chest felt empty without the meteorite pendant, and he hunted around his room until he found a bad metal replacement that some girl had given him a while back. It was a cheap flat metal plate shaped like a surfboard, with an edgy design with lots of sharp edges and tendrils etched into it. It reminded her of him, apparently, though he couldn't see how, but it would have to do.

The day after that, he found his mobile phone and mass-deleted all the hate texts. He emerged from his room, and his mother showed him a letter from Shin Teikoku.

It was a generic info pack that showed clear signs of hasty assembly. Shin Teikoku was to be closed following Kageyama's disappearance. The students of Shin Teikoku would be offered places in schools elsewhere; the individual schools would contact them shortly. Kageyama was missing, presumed dead as he'd gone down with the sub (he knew better), and his assistants were currently being questioned by the police. They were to be brought to court in the following weeks. The situation was being cleaned up and all involved were valiantly trying to move on.

Most would. But not him.

An extra letter had been attached to his info pack. As he had been captain of the football team, and the enforcer of Kageyama's ideals, Shin Teikoku would cut all ties with him. They regretted to inform him that they would be unable to recommend him to any partner schools, and wished him good luck in the future. The same old noncommittal dismissal that he had come to expect from anybody washing their hands of Kageyama.

If only he could do the same so easily. 

¥

He worried about his mother. Though she put on a brave face, he could see the frown lines, the tired eyes, the pale complexion. Her normally serene smile, unaffected by all the troubles his irresponsible father had caused the family over the years, turned more and more brittle as the days passed and the mound of schools rejecting him grew. Her gait become less confident. She stooped more, moved slower, and constantly stopped to hold something for support.

"What are we going to do now, Akio?" she finally asked him later that day. Her tone was wrung out of sadness and made him feel guiltier than anything else had. He didn't say anything and retreated into his room, but it was then that he clutched his shitty metal pendant and thought hard, and resolved to finally get on with his life. 

¥

"Hey, you."

Fudou turned to see a small boy, with dark, shoulder-length hair partially covered by a hat that he could only describe as one of those ridiculous kindergarten kid ones. You know, those ugly-ass, bright yellow helmets. His crafty smile spelled trouble or at least annoyance, so he ignored him and went back to sticking more job search fliers on the walls.

"Odd jobs?" The kid leaned his head back on both palms, making himself comfortable. Clearly, he hadn't got the message. "Handyman? Babysitter? Ain't you a bit fierce for that, now?"

"And you?" Fudou finally looked at him. "Shouldn't you be in school or something? Got nothing better to do than to heckle strangers on the street?"

The boy blew out a bright blue bubble, continuing to watch him advertise his services. He popped the bubble noisily, and darted his tongue out to gather the gum back into his mouth. "Look who's talking. You don't look old enough to be out of school neither."

"No," Fudou said, and moved off to find a new spot to put his fliers up in. To his chagrin, the boy stuck to him.

"Look, can you stop following me?"

"No can do. I'm bored and you're the most interesting thing round here for miles. It's true."

He had to concede his point. The neighbourhood they were currently at looked drab and sterile and, save for a bulletin board, there was no evidence that people actually lived here. Many shops were closed, no children played in the parks and playgrounds, and few people walked the streets. It was unsettling, to say the least. He probably wouldn't have come here if he hadn't been trying to shake off the kid.

"I don't see why you can't just follow one of those people instead. What about that girl talking on the phone there?"

"Are you kidding?" the kid screeched. "She'd kill me! She's talking to her boyfriend right now. They're having a fight." He lowered his voice as if he were revealing the largest secret in the world. "It's true. Even if she isn't talking very loudly. She tried to kick me when I got too close just now."

Ah. So he'd already tried to hang around her. Fudou was trying, and rapidly failing, to stifle his urge to hurt the kid. Still, he figured that maybe he would go away if he ignored him enough. He moved on.

"So, why're you looking for a job anyway?" The kid started to blow another bubble and looked at him expectantly, before letting out a quick breath and popping it. Out came the tongue again to collect the residue. "You look tough, but you don't look stupid. You look like my big brother and he's in middle school right now studying for his entrance exam thingies." He took a deep breath, and started to blow another bubble.

Fudou gathered his things and moved on to the street after the next, still ignoring the kid. Again, the balloon popped, and in between gathering up the gum and giving it a few good chews, it was a while before the kid could speak again.

"Don't ignore me! The way I see it, I'm just giving you entertainment. In fact, you should thank me. Wait a minute, are you sure you wanna go into this neighbourhood...?"

A withering glare was all Fudou gave him as he continued to head deeper into the suburbs.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you, pal. Some of the people here are pretty rough. You're making this hard for me, man!" The kid babbled on in between chews. "Just because you've never been here before doesn't mean that you should just ignore danger. But maybe that's what you're looking for, huh? Trying to look all respectable by looking for a job, but in reality you're just a guy with a mohawk looking for a fight? I've seen you types before. I've seen you types before. It's true. My brother has a friend who—"

"THERE YOU ARE!" The ground rumbled, and Fudou looked up to see a large boy barreling towards them. He deftly sidestepped the new arrival, but Bubblegum Boy wasn't so lucky and was swept away screaming. For a moment, he watched the spectacle, amused.

Then the big guy turned to give him a steely glare.

"YOU!" he declared, marching over to him (Bubblegum Boy trailed behind). "It's all your fault that my boy Shogo here's been missing for so long and shirkin' his duties! What did you offer him, huh? Food? Money? Gum!? You can't just be picking up kids off the street, you know! He's not even out of elementary school! Have some decency, man! I mean, you don't look like too bad of a guy yourself. Do you got brothers? Surely you must know how he feels. I mean..."

"Look," Fudou tried to say.

"...it's tough out here in the streets nowadays, you know? Don't go stealing our turf and taking our jobs! We help society too, you know! We ain't just trash! Shogo here was supposed to go mow somebody's lawn! Imagine the trouble I had to go through when they called me to say that he hadn't turned up!"

 _What the hell does that have to do with me?_ Fudou wanted to say.

"Look, I told you that I couldn't make it because my mum—" Bubblegum Boy drowned him out, his voice going painfully high.

"Shut up, Shogo! Anyway, what's with the stuff you're putting up now!" The Big Lump was practically hopping now, probably powered by the kinetic energy generated by the words running from his mouth. "A babysitter? You? Really? With that tatt? I tried that and my mohawk is way smaller than yours. But no! They turned me away after seeing it! 'Oh, your hair is blonde too, and we can't have that sort of influence on our child.' Give me a break! It's not like I have a head tatt like yours either! You have no chance! So let me take that down for ya! You won't be getting any calls anyway! And the handyman jobs are reserved for Shogo and me here!"

Big Lump reached for his fliers, and he tried once more to say something. It didn't work, and the Big Lump tore one flier down in a smooth movement, letting the wind blow it away. He didn't seem to be listening to anything he was saying. So Fudou punched him.

Ooof. Right in the jaw, that was his style. It had been ages since he'd been in a fight and he relished the adrenaline rush. Flinging his bag against the wall, he braced himself for the return blow, and when that didn't come, started to back up. Big Lump was still reeling (wimp) and Fudou thought about where he would attack next. Or maybe they'd run away and leave him alone to his job-searching.

No such luck. Out of nowhere, a small sticky mess of yelling child landed on his back, knocking him clear to the ground. A bubble popped and little feet started to kick Fudou. Fortunately for him, the kicks were relatively painless. Thank God for puberty, eh?

"You don't just punch Wada-san when he's trying to help you!" Bubblegum Boy heaped it on thick, adding a few feeble pummels for good measure. Fudou was still reeling from his ambush and was completely unprepared for the Big Lump's bull rush. Just as he was trying to get up, still with this parasite stuck to him, a sliding tackle caught him in the legs and he lost balance again.

He snarled. So this was how it was going to go.

"Look here, what's your problem?" Big Lump was saying. "Just trying to give you some friendly neighbourhood advice, and you punch the guy? Did you have abandonment issues as a child or what? Where's your sense of trust? Where's your sense of cooperation, brother? I'm gonna treat that as a fluke, as an accident, and trust that you didn't really mean it—"

Fudou, newly back on his feet, punched him again, this time in the left jaw for matching bruises. Taking advantage of the shock period, he mustered up all his strength to throw Bubblegum Boy off him before backing up against the wall. He wasn't going to run away, no, he was having way too much fun. But there was no point exposing parts of him that he couldn't defend.

The Big Lump sputtered and backed up again. Fudou realised that he was getting ready for another charge and looked around for Bubblegum Boy to use as a human shield. The kid was lurking in a corner, probably waiting for Big Lump to make his move, and he pounced.

"You don't hit people without knowing the consequences," he hissed before driving a right hook up into his chin. (Not at full power, though. He wasn't a complete asshole.) He didn't give Bubblegum Boy any time to escape as he held on to him, spinning him around... right into the path of the Big Lump. The kid realised what was happening and raised his voice to impossible levels, trying to warn his friend, but it was too late.

Big Lump had gathered a enormous amount of momentum and couldn't stop that easily. He tried to slow his run when it became clear that he was just going to ram, full-speed, into Bubblegum Boy and the wall. Unexpectedly, he managed to turn his course, resulting in a large four-way collision between all three boys and the very hard wall.

Fudou's smirk rapidly turned into a grimace as he felt blood spurt into his mouth. He spat it out, not caring where it went, and went for Big Lump. "You fucker!"

Big Lump got up in turn, and pushed Fudou away from the scene. "Move your butthole!"

Fudou almost lost his balance and skidded back at least two metres, or more, he wasn't really sure. Big Lump was following up, looking to get a punch in, and he only had enough time to react with a block. Big Lump didn't relent, though. With a growl of frustration, he brought his other arm out, swinging it like a police baton in an attempt to cuff him. Fudou blocked it, poorly, with his arm, and screamed in pain when it buckled. Cradling it, he made a desperate kick at Big Lump, meeting his sizable stomach.

His foot bounced off. Big Lump seemed completely unaffected, and even amused, as Fudou lost his balance and landed on the ground. Thankfully not on his sore arm. He quickly sat up and watched Big Lump warily, poking and prodding his arm and wrist to make sure there were no severe injuries.

Thankfully, there weren't. Big Lump was already tending to Bubblegum Boy with a small smile on his face. Fudou could make out snippets of what he was saying, "You deserved it" being among them (which was true). With a small groan, he got to his feet and pressed his lip gingerly. His family was going to have a field day when he got back. Well, he could just say that he tripped over a stone and fell onto the kerb or something. He picked up his sling bag, and was just about to leave when the Big Lump called out to him.

"Hey. You."

Fudou paused.

"That was fun." Big Lump gave him a brief, contemplative look that quickly relaxed into a lip-splitting grin. This was quickly followed by a wince and he sucked his cheeks in gingerly. "Hah. That wasn't smart."

He held out his hand, and was considerate enough to make sure Fudou wouldn't have to use his injured arm. "I'm called Wada."

Fudou appraised him for a split second, and grasped his hand firmly.

"Fudou."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fudou's new friends are based off canon. They should be quickly recognisable based on their descriptions if you look at the episode where Hibiki explains how he found Fudou!


	2. Kiss with a Fist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fudou gets to know Wada and friends, and tries his hand at this getting on with life business. But it's not easy. This is the real world, man!

Wada, as it turned out, was not actually Shogo's brother. In fact, he was an only child, but had many 'brothers' nonetheless that he introduced to Fudou over the course of several days. There was Takami, a timid, unnaturally tall 2nd-year that everybody just called 'Takan', Maki, a perpetually coughing, tomboyish 1st-year, and Cap, so-called because of his bright red Manchester United cap, and also because he hated his actual name so much. ("Nobody except Takan here actually knows his real name," Wada'd whispered to him conspiratorially. "Childhood friends, you know.") As far as Fudou knew, they were just a gang of kids who didn't go to school, most of them as good as expelled.

One thing they were good for, however, was giving him access to their odd jobs network. The money they earned was pooled to finance shopping expeditions to the nearest convenience store. _That_ he thought was bullshit. He didn't intend to give in any money, but then again, he wasn't about to tell them that.

¥

He approached his first job with hesitation. His mother had instilled in him an appreciation of hard work from a young age, and, for all his posturing and bravado, he knew the value of a job well done.

"It's my first job, so feel free to correct me or to tell me if I'm doing anything wrong," he said to his first client, a kindly old man who'd treated him to cake before the job. Unfortunately for the both of them, the job was to maintain the garden, and this was the first time in his miserable little life that he had ever been in one.

The old man didn't mind, though, and asked him just to remove the weeds that were springing out amidst the flowers. After pointing out which plants he actually wanted to keep, he set him loose to do his job. It was hard work and the sun beat down on him as he bent down and pulled out weed after weed. Brute force didn't cut it, either—a degree of restraint was needed so that the weeds didn't snap off at the roots. He had barely covered a quarter of the garden before his right shoulder and lower back started to hurt.

"You all right there?" the old man called, and he looked up to see that the man was checking on him again. He waved at him and gave him a thumbs up, but the man continued. "You can take a rest if you want. Don't overexert yourself now."

Fudou wanted so badly to go into his house and enjoy the air conditioner and maybe even a bit more cake, but he couldn't. "I'd love to," he called over to the man. "But my next job is in 2 hours, so I've got to finish this up quickly. Thanks, though."

He resumed his work, not missing the flash of disappointment that ran across the man's face. He was beginning to suspect that the man ordered odd jobs because he wanted some company, not because he actually cared about the state of his garden. It was really too bad that he couldn't stay and keep him company (and get more free food).

After the job, he pocketed the pay and though that just maybe, things would work out. That hadn't been too bad, and if all his clients were going to be like that, then perhaps not getting accepted into any school was a blessing in disguise. 

¥

Wada met him at the door for the next job, and showed him exactly how to use the rather mangy-looking rollers he had managed to procure. He wasn't a good teacher, and Fudou spotted several slip-ups that he thought better than to mention. But then again, they were just kids and they weren't charging a lot for their services anyway. You got what you paid for.

They got to work, Wada painting the south side and Fudou the north, chatting about mundane things along the way. Fudou had discovered that most of the group had quite similar and frankly boring interests when you peeled apart their differences and revealed their base layers. Cap obviously liked football, and sometimes Shogo and Takan would watch a few matches on TV with him. Takan liked shooter games and sometimes they would all go to his rather ratty place to play some. No one really knew what Maki liked, but she seemed to have fun no matter what they were doing. And Wada loved the arcade.

He was chattering on about it right now, telling him about air hockey and arcade basketball and Street Fighter and all the other games he loved to play but sucked at. It was kind of sad, but he wasn't about to alienate the source of his money and tell him that.

"By the way. Fudou." Wada's tone became more meditative, and he slowed his chatter down. Fudou finished rolling another strip of paint onto the walls and turned to look at him.

"What is it?"

"I don't know if anyone told you about this, but at the end of each day, we get the money we earn and—"

"Pool it, I know."

"I hope you weren't thinking of backing out of that."

His silence told Wada everything he needed to know. Wada smirked. "Everyone always tries that. Takan did that too, when he first started. We taught him to do better, though. I mean... I wouldn't try that."

"Why?" Fudou asked, ticked off. "I'm working real hard for this money."

"We all are," Wada said. "So we all deserve to enjoy it equally."

"Yeah," he replied, "but I work more hours. I did four hours yesterday, and I've got a job after this. And I know that you're giving me all the shitty jobs." He jutted his elbow into Wada's face. "See this bruise? The dog I was walking yesterday knocked me into a tree. I've got more from other jobs too."

Wada shrugged. "That's nothing, man. We've all walked that dog before. Stop being so uncool."

"It's not that. Why don't we all just put in the same amount every week? How much can we really spend in convenience stores anyway? This isn't fair to people who work harder."

"We never asked you to work so hard. Look, it's just always been this way. Everybody puts in half of what they earn, and at the end of the week we go to the convenience store and have a big party."

"Except what I put in is more than what everyone else does. I know Cap and Maki are bumming at Takan's right now. Did they even have any jobs today?"

"Like I said, we never asked you to work so hard."

"That's shitty. I couldn't give two shits about the stuff we normally buy. You know that."

"Look," and Wada's tone noticeably dropped. It had a more dangerous edge now. "If you don't like it, it's simple. Just opt out."

For better or for worse, footsteps coming from the doorway signalled that their client was coming to check on them. Fudou recognised that now was not the time to argue and let the issue drop. Saying no more, he turned back towards the north wall to continue painting. But the cold metal pressing against his heart didn't let him forget just who and what he was doing all of this for. 

¥

"Oi, Fudou. How much did you get today?"

He paused, as did everyone else. He looked at Wada warily. "A pretty good amount. What's it to you?"

Wada frowned. "Look, now. I've been real nice about it, like. Don't think that we aren't going to call your bluff. You earn way more than what you've been dropping into the pool. It's supposed to be half your earnings. The other half's fair for keeps."

Fudou scoffed. "I do so much more work than you," he repeated. He squared his shoulders and looked at him, ignoring the others. "And I do a better job than you too. Did you see how the room looked the other day after we were done? Your side was all sloppy. I do a much better job than _all_ of you," he griped out to silence the snickers around him. "You think I don't know that you're dumping all the shitty jobs on me? I don't see why I have to give up my hard-earned money for, what, so that we can get the latest limited-edition Ramune drinks? Or play the gachapon machines? That's so lame."

"So what is it now..." Wada said slowly, eyes narrowing. "That's not the way we do things here. That's not how it's done at all."

"I couldn't give a fuck about how it's done," Fudou said bluntly, ignoring the bristling around him. "I never said that I would agree to any of these stupid terms. I earned the money and I'm keeping it." All the same, he backed towards the exit, a movement which was not missed.

"We're gonna take you," Wada declared, stepping forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Takan and Cap move to cover the entrance. "You can't take all of us. There's five of us. I fought you before, and we beat you up pretty bad."

"You forgot Maki. She's not a pussy," Fudou countered as he backed up. "And you think I couldn't take your fat ass in a heartbeat? You had help. And this is five on one. That's not fair."

Cap spoke. "Well, Fudou, you ain't puttin' in your share. That ain't fair either. It affects all of us, right?" He shrugged his shoulders, but didn't move.

Fudou let out a deep sigh.

"Look," Wada said with an uncharacteristically dark grin. "It's this simple, Fudou. We talked about this. You gotta follow our rules to get our jobs. No money, no jobs, no money. It's that simple. And you need money, right?" Of course he did. That was why he was hanging out with these bums.

Fudou stared at him, his chin out and his eyes dark and angry. Wada was daring him to answer his question, but he didn't rise to the bait. Nobody else said anything and continued to look at him. Eventually, he cursed and took out his money for Wada to count. He hated to admit it, but right now, Wada had the edge. 

¥

He had just rounded the last corner to his home when he heard his mother shouting. He rushed forward to see a man wearing sunglasses and dressed in a polo shirt and bermuda shorts hurriedly backing away from his doorstep.

His mother's head emerged from the door.

"—just stay away from him! He doesn't need this! You've ruined his life and ours enough already. We don't need you adding more!"

The man stumbled backwards until he reached the kerb. Turning, he saw Fudou, and stepped towards him.

"Fudou-kun," he said, and Fudou took a step back.

"Akio, come in," his mother said from the door.

"Fudou-kun, my name is Shimizu and I'm a—"

"Akio, come in!" his mother all but shrieked. The man flinched, and, by now thoroughly spooked, Fudou streaked in through the gates and the door. His mother pulled the door closed behind him with a resounding slam. Breathing heavily, Fudou took a few moments to compose himself. His eyebrows furrowed and he asked, "Who was that?"

"Oh." His mother frowned and turned away from him, fists clenched. Her shoulders shook. Another beat. "He was a friend of your father's."

"What did he want?" he asked suspiciously. "Don't tell me Dad borrowed money off him and he wants it back."

"No," she replied absently. "It was nothing like that..." Then she stopped, and looked at him again. "Akio darling, what on Earth happened to you? You look exhausted."

"It was just a tough job today," he said, taking out his wallet and handing her what was left of his earnings. "Had to help tile a roof. This is for you."

She took the money and ushered him inside, touching his scrapes and bruises and generally making him squirm, but he didn't mind.

"Akio, it's really good that you're taking the initiative to help our family." She fussed over him and began to clean his scrapes with rubbing alcohol. "I'm so proud of you. You're not letting your recent setbacks get in the way. Unlike your father." Her face clouded, and her voice grew dark.

"He's been bringing more beer and tobacco home lately. That stuff isn't cheap. I know he earns money, but he's wasting it all on those things. Don't grow up to do that, Akio. Addiction isn't worth it."

"Yes, mum," he said obediently, taking the slight sting of the alcohol without complaint. Then he frowned. "You've just got to talk to him, you know? Don't we have bills and loans and stuff to pay? We should be saving up for those."

"I don't know." He turned to see his mother bite her lip. "I guess you're right. I need to talk to him about it."

He nodded and placed one hand on her arm. "Mum, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course," she said faintly. "What is it?"

"I'll always be behind you no matter what you do. I'm gonna make this work. I'm gonna work hard."

She smiled, and he couldn't see how much it didn't contain. His mother hugged him, and he relaxed into her embrace.


	3. Chop Suey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the party of the century! Not! It's just the weekly convenience store bash. Also, Mr. Fudou takes out a new loan. Fudou can't afford to be giving up part of his money like this anymore...

The sun shone mercilessly down on his back and his shoulders ached, but Fudou kept scrubbing. He didn't want to slack off, not when a bunch of menacing guys who were probably from the yakuza were watching them. Probably with good reason. They wouldn't want a bunch of kids wrecking their van collection, would they?

But then again, another part of him countered, they were asking for it by getting a bunch of kids to do it. He swiped the sponge through the murky water again in a poor pretence at rinsing it and heard a few excited shouts coming from their general direction. He looked over to see a pyramid constructed from empty beer cans come crashing down, and one of the yakuza grunts pumped his arms up and down in triumph. Beer can bowling. He'd snort, but he didn't have a death wish. Quickly, he averted his gaze and continued to scrub at the patch of grime on this delivery van.

Beside him, Wada was working at a much slower pace, probably because he didn't dare to chatter and switch his alternate supply of energy on. Cap and Takan were lathering soap suds over another van to their right, and Maki and Shogo were coordinating their work quietly behind them. The fact that they were all here pointed to great rewards for the job, not that Fudou was privy to knowing exactly how much. Wada had put him on probation, taking charge of his earnings and only giving him what he'd earned post-pooling. It was pretty shitty, but then again, he was pretty desperate for the money.

"Break," Wada suddenly gasped, stretching his arms out, before he spotted the yakuza guys eyeing them from their bowling game and caught himself. "After this van," he amended before throwing himself into the task with renewed vigour. Fudou followed suit, not out of acquiescence but rather because he was also hot and tired and crabby. The pendant was slippery and warm from all the work he'd been doing and it kept banging against his chest. All he wanted was a cold drink and a nice long rest.

The yakuza guys were decent enough to allow them their break, at least, and one of them even tossed a bottle of iced lemon tea over. The six of them attacked the bottle ferociously, not letting each other have the tiniest of sips before snatching it out of their hands. As he fought, Fudou had the impression that the yakuza had only done it for a laugh, but he was too fucking thirsty to care.

They switched partners after the break, and he found himself sharing the bucket with Cap. Fudou still didn't have a proper handle on how this guy worked. Cap rarely talked, and Fudou talked to him even less. In fact, the only time he could remember hearing Cap talk was when he'd vouched for Wada against him in the week before, and that really didn't make him willing to expend much goodwill towards him. As they worked, though, Fudou realised what it was about Cap that perplexed him. It wasn't that he had something against Fudou or even against the world, like the typical self-centered boy with issues. (Sakuma and Genda had been that type, consumed with self-pity.) It was just that he didn't care. He treated Fudou the same as ever compared to before his argument with Wada and, in fact, even compared to when they'd just met.

Cap returned from refilling the bucket (they had to switch the water sometime, even by their standards). "What's up?" he said, although Fudou knew he wasn't really interested in finding out. "Less standing, more scrubbing. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go home."

He snorted. "The sooner we celebrate in the convenience store, you mean," he corrected, not bothering to keep the disdain out of his voice. Everyone knew his opinion on the weekly convenience store splurges.

Cap chuckled insincerely. "Think what you will of it. It's something to do."

Fudou said nothing and continued to work at a piece of mud that was caked particularly strongly between the tires and body of the van. To his chagrin, Cap wouldn't leave him be.

"You know, I've been wondering something for a while." How did Cap manage to sound so easygoing? Was he even doing any work on the other side of the van? He wasn't the one in plain view of their yakuza clients, after all. Fudou was tempted to check and strangle him if he was just slacking off.

"Do you play football? You look like you'd be good at it." Well, that was certainly direct. He paused, before a movement from a yakuza grunt prompted him to continue working. Football, huh? He could honestly say that he hadn't thought about it for ages. Only the constant hate messages (though they were decreasing in number as the Raimon fans found other things to occupy themselves with) reminded him that he used to play such a sport. His heart began to race as he thought back to the excitement of a football match, but at the same time Kageyama's last words flashed through his mind and left a bad taste in his mouth. Fudou shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts before going to rinse his cloth.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Cap called in that annoyingly light voice. "I asked you a question."

He grunted, his mind still murky.

"I don't play football." 

¥

He didn't say much after that, and eventually Cap gave up trying to coax anything more out of him. The job got better once the sun moved west, mostly because it wasn't so hot anymore, and then, finally, with one last polish, they were done.

When they were at a safe distance from the yakuza members, Wada handed out the money. He gave Fudou a noticeably smaller wad of bills with a smirk before turning back to tease Shogo about whatever the reason of the week was. Fudou followed the group, staying at a distance behind them.

1,500 yen. 1,500 yen for that day's work. Wada hadn't just taken half his share, he'd cut that share too. It had to be, because there was no way the others would work this long and this hard for a paltry 3,000 yen. But there was nothing he could do about it. He would just have to grit his teeth and bear it. Once he managed to impress and get a few regular clients, he'd ditch these losers for good.

The others curved into the convenience store and, after a moment's wavering, he followed. If they were going to waste his hard-earned money on stupid snacks and toys, he might as well take his fair share.

He grabbed a few chips off Wada and plucked a good few strips of jerky from Takan's hands, ignoring the latter's weak protests. He'd paid for some of it too, after all. Then he leaned against the wall while he waited for the party to end. Cap was watching Shogo try his luck at the gachapon machines on the far corner of the store. Takan drifted over there as well, and Fudou could barely stifle a laugh when the boy dumped a huge bag of coins into his hands and pointed at another machine.

"Takan's kind of a wimp, isn't he?"

Maki sidled next to him, a lollipop held daintily between her fingers. He scoffed for real this time.

"Do you need me to tell you that?"

She hmm'ed in response, before putting her lollipop into her mouth and taking a few sharp sucks. In the gachapon side of the store, Shogo and Takan were collecting an inhuman amount of those toys. It was quite a system they'd worked out there. Shogo would just flit from one machine to another, inserting the coins and spinning the dial in one smooth motion, while Takan was left to pick up the pieces and check whether they'd got what Shogo wanted. Several times he fumbled while opening the cases and Shogo would yell at him to hurry up. What a brat, but Fudou had to give him credit. Spinning the dial and hearing the satisfying  _clunk_  of the toy falling down was the best part of gachapon machines anyway.

"He's entertaining, I guess."

"What?"

"That's why I hang out with him. Something to do," she amended.

"If you say so." He chewed on the last piece of jerky and checked—yes, his money was still there.

"What's that?" Maki asked curiously, and he hooked a finger around it and brought it out to show her.

"Just a necklace I like to wear," he said.

She reached out for it. "I think it's cool."

"Thanks." He shied away from her so that it was just out of reach of her hands, and looked away. He didn't want anyone's hands on his pendant, even if it meant risking the coming of the wrath she was starting to emanate. She started to say something, and he had never been happier for a distraction to occur at this moment.

Takan put a hand on Shogo's shoulder and spun him around, placing something in his hand. The boy's eyes expanded to the size of dinner plates when he saw what it was, and he let out a loud whoop. Fudou headed towards the two and reached them the same time as Wada, who was eating from a new bag of chips. Wada and Takan started to dance and Shogo had the widest, most brilliant grin on his face. Even Cap had a small smile on his face as patted Shogo on the shoulder.

Fudou raised a questioning eyebrow, and Cap's smirk widened.

"Congratulate Shogo, man. He just got the limited edition holograph version of the Super Robot GX748." 

¥

"We're going to have to cut down on our spending again," Mr. Fudou announced abruptly during dinner. Fudou picked at his sardines, having heard this all many times before.

"Dear. We've cut down so much already. How can we do more? And what about the money Akio earns? What's the problem now?" his mother asked.

Mr. Fudou massaged his temples with his massive right hand. "I had to repay one of our loans. So I had to take out another one. But they wouldn't let me take out a long-term loan, so I had to opt for the 6-month. It was the only choice."

He heard the sound of metal clattering against the plate. "Can you think about your family before you make such decisions?" his mother started. "Has it occurred to you that maybe we want to have a better life? You could have negotiated with the loan guys. Why not something just a bit longer? I bet you just took it and didn't even try to talk it out. Even 10 months would be better than this. Have you forgotten that we're in trouble now? We can't afford to be focusing on money problems. Do you want Akio to just keep working part-time forever?"

Mr. Fudou sighed. "Dear, I've already explained to you that that's just how things work. You can't negotiate with these guys."

"Because you've never tried."

"You can't negotiate with these guys," Mr. Fudou continued, massaging his temples again. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm not borrowing from illegal loansharks. I'm doing it clean with accredited agencies. Sure, they're more expensive, but they won't cheat us. It will never happen again. I'll make sure of that."

His mother stared at his father, her mouth pressed into an impossibly thin line. The expression on her face was murderous. He'd seen that expression too many times before. She was struggling to keep her words in.

Perhaps his father recognised it too, because he stood up. "I'm tired. I'm going to go rest a bit. It was a good meal, Riko." He headed towards the kitchen.

His mother spoke when he was almost, but not quite out of hearing range. "Going to get a beer?"

Mr. Fudou paused. "Yes."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not. I threw them away." She stood up, and her eyes sparkled with fire as she stared her husband down. Fudou looked up at her. She met his gaze, and he gave her a fleeting smile.

Silence for a moment. And then— "You did what?"

Mrs. Fudou glared.

"Think for a moment just how much tobacco and alcohol cost. Don't waste your money on it if you're going to cut family spending. It's a waste of money. It's unnecessary spending! The money Akio makes is going straight to your beer fund. Did you ever think of it that way? This is not what he's supposed to do. Akio needs to go back to school and for that, we need money."

Mr. Fudou rubbed his forehead again, this time between his eyebrows, at the top of his nose. He glanced at Fudou, who didn't miss it.

He stabbed harder at his sardines. This was going exactly the same as always. His father would try to weasel out of arguments by pretending that his ears were too delicate to hear about serious matters. He'd run away from his family, and nothing would change.

"Surely you won't try to deny a man his pleasures, Riko?" His father's next self-deprecating words pushed all the wrong buttons and didn't surprise him at all. He reached for his pendant and absentmindedly ran his thumb over its edges.

"Yes," his mother said in a brittle voice. "You're getting addicted, and the only way to fix that is abstinence. Stop smoking and drinking. We can't afford it. We have to pay the bills, and what about the loans you took out last year? The due date's coming up, isn't it?"

"But I only buy a bit."

"It's not just a bit!" his mother shouted, just when he was about to tune them out. "Nobody brings home a crate of beer!" 

¥

"Oi, Fudou. How much did you put in?" It was Takan asking the question this time, and he had to make an effort to suppress his snort. The guy had never once impressed him in their short period of acquaintance. If anything, he was a major coward and bootlicker, and all he did was answer to the leader and be their lapdog.

"1,500 yen."

"Stop fucking with us. You earned way more than 3,000 yen today. We all know what jobs you've been on."

 _That's because you give me all the jobs you don't want!_  he wanted to yell, but refrained from doing so. Yes, he was being dishonest, but he needed this money more than these punks needed theirs, and he didn't want to lose any more of it, especially after last night.

Wait.

He had been about to point out that Wada was still keeping tabs on his earnings, but stopped himself just in time. Instead, he smirked. Suddenly, it was all coming together.

"You guys know that I think what we're spending the money on is retarded." Testing the waters.

"Yes, but you're in the minority he—," Takan began heatedly.

He ignored him. Nobody else said anything, which was good. "What I'm saying is that we ought to get better stuff with the pool money."

"Oh?" Takan's bluster was almost cute.

Fudou grinned. "You all know what I'm talking about. Why drink Kidsbeer when we can go for the real thing?"

"You can get it?" Cap said dubiously.

"I have it, at home."

"What about your pool share, then?" Takan asked.

Fudou sighed carefully and gave the group a once-over. No one looked put-off or angry. So far, so good. "If I'm giving you guys the goods, that makes me the seller, right?" he said slowly, looking round the group again. Not a flicker. "So I'll take the pool."

"That's not fair," Takan began, but Fudou could see the others wavering.

He laid down the killer. "All right, what would you prefer, me putting in 2,000 yen for Ramune and toys or you paying me for cigarettes and beer?"

Takan glared at him, knowing full well that he was still lying about his income that week. But his offer interested him more than he was willing to admit. He conceded.

"Bring it to us now," Wada said. "I wanna try it for myself."

Fudou smirked. "No. Give me half the money first. That's fair."


	4. This Suffering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fudou brings the goods, which makes him a hero in these punks' eyes. They set about on the path of corruption. Oh, the humanity! For better or worse, some don't take it as well as others.

He was conscious of the wad of cash tucked snugly in his shorts pocket all the way home. After unlocking the door (his mother was working, fortunately), he headed to his closet, parting his clothes apart to reveal the things he'd collected the night before. 12 cans of beer, 3 packs of cigarettes, the perfect statement.

His only regret was that he didn't have a video of everyone's reactions when he unveiled the goods (quite stylishly, too, if he could say so himself). Wada's was the funniest—his eyes bugged out, he gasped, and he even jumped up a little. Maki leaned forward with interest, masking several coughs. Cap sucked in a breath, and Shogo reached out to touch it, but stopped himself. Only Takan shrunk back slightly.

"You go first, Fudou," he said dubiously, spreading one arm out over the contents of the plastic bag. "You did bring it, after all." Fudou wasn't fooled by his act one bit, but he saw no reason not to do so. He grabbed a can of beer and flicked the tab up. The click was loud and fizz started to bubble out of the can.

He took a sip and hid his grimace. It was bitter. But at the same time, it wasn't the bad kind of bitter.

With a grin, he gestured grandiosely at his goods.

"Well. Shall we?" 

¥

"Blah!"

Fudou barely stifled a snicker as Wada spat out the drink. Leaning back against the brick wall, he nursed his own can of beer and watched Wada sputter and spit.

"This is disgusting, Fudou, how can you even drink this stuff? It's bitter, and it's so fizzy!"

"Sprite is fizzy."

"Sprite is SWEET!" Wada spat again, a few more times, before reaching into his pack and taking out a bottle of water. He took several large gulps before he finally picked the can up again to take another sip.

"Wanna try some, Shogo?"

Giving Wada a sceptical glance, Shogo nonetheless accepted the can and gulped. His eyebrows quirked.

"I don't know what you're on, Wada-san. I think this tastes pretty good."

Wada scoffed. "Well then, you can have it, if you like it. It's probably just me. Everyone else seems to like it. I thought you had cigarettes, Fudou?"

Fudou grinned. It was time for his trump card. 3 packs of cigarettes was more than enough for everybody. Flipping open the box with his thumbnail, he gave a cigarette to Wada. He took another one for himself and lit it, keeping the flame alive for the others. Setting his beer can on the ground, he passed the cigarette box around to the rest of the group, noting with pleasure that everyone, even Maki, took one.

He brought it to his mouth and inhaled. The smoke tasted pretty damn good, and he managed to stop the cough coming up in its tracks. The smoke tickled his throat, but at the same time, it sent waves of relaxation through his mind. No wonder his father always had a cigarette. He exhaled slowly, watching the cloud of smoke fill the air above Shogo's head.

In good humour, he gave the lighter to Takan.

"Light it, c'mon."

Takan held the cigarette like it was some sort of alien specimen and lit it, placing it into his mouth. No sooner had he had done that than he immediately started coughing. Dropping both the cigarette and the lighter, Takan doubled over, his body shaking as he gave several more coughs. Fudou and the others watched him, fascinated, as the coughs subsided and he straightened up again. His gaze roved over them and he had the decency to look embarrassed—everyone, even Maki, was already puffing away.

"Real smooth, Takan," Fudou said, giving him a sardonic smirk. "You want a new cig?"

"Nah," Takan replied, ears pink. He dropped into a sitting position again and leaned forward to pick his fallen cigarette up. "Pass the lighter though."

¥

Fudou was on his third cigarette when Shogo suddenly gave out a loud belch. Wada immediately turned towards him, and Shogo belched again, his cheeks and ears red, but the rest of his features pale.

"I don't... feel too good."

Inwardly, Fudou cursed. He should have known that giving the kid one whole can would be too much for him to handle.

He threw his half-done cigarette to the ground and scuffed it with the toe of his sneakers. "Do you feel like puking?"

"I don't know. For real," Shogo replied uneasily. He was leaning on the wall, taking quick, shallow breaths. Nobody else moved. Wada was watching Shogo, a concerned expression on his face, but that was about as good as it got. Takan stayed put, and the dick actually seemed glad now that he wasn't the only one to mess up. The other two were lost in their own little world. Maki, glossy-eyed, blew out a torrent of smoke before inhaling again deeply, and Cap had a funny little smile on his face.

Maybe he was blessed with good genes, because he felt completely clear-headed and not even the slightest bit wheezy. Probably the same genes that had drawn his dad to these things, actually.

"I'm gonna take Shogo home." He tossed the cigarette box to Wada, who snatched it up with an eager grin. This was his crew now, and he supposed it was partially his responsibility since he'd provided the tobacco and alcohol. Besides, Shogo was just a kid.

"Actually, scratch that. Wada, come with me. You know where he lives, right?"

Wada, who had been in the middle of lighting another cigarette, paused, before turning towards him reluctantly. Fudou's eyes narrowed.

"Come on, Wada. Don't be such a pussy. There's plenty of that where it came from. Shogo's your brother, ain't he?"

"...Yeah," Wada conceded. When he stood up, Fudou felt a vicious stab of satisfaction in his heart. How quickly things could change. Who was leading who around now?

He cast a glance backwards at the rest of the group.

"Y'all can have the rest of the box. No need to thank me now." 

¥

Wada grew noticeably more skittish as they approached the neighbourhood where Fudou had first encountered the two. Funnily enough, the same teen with the phone was still there, pouring words through her phone with a mournful expression on her face. Apart from her, the area was as empty as ever.

Though he was supported on the shoulders of the two boys, Shogo still swayed around and occasionally let out soft giggles. He was babbling now, talking about goldfish or rainbow salmons or robot animes or whatever it was that interested kids nowadays. He'd started talking nonstop around twenty minutes ago, and Fudou had started screening his voice out after about two.

"Dude. Fudou." Wada's sudden serious tone surprised Fudou, and he had to double-check to make sure that the voice he'd just heard was actually him. "We can't let him be seen like this. We've got to make him look less drunk."

Fudou shrugged as much as he could without letting Shogo's arm fall off. "Parents?"

"Not just that." Wada abruptly stopped, jerking Fudou back with him. "We should get out of this neighbourhood before anyone sees him, actually."

Fudou's curiosity was piqued now, even as he was dragged along by a newly determined Wada. "What's up? What's so special about Shogo-kun?" They passed the empty parks and playgrounds, and the lovesick girl with relationship problems, Wada not speaking along the way and Fudou knowing not to press matters just then. Meanwhile, Shogo punctuated the silence with the sound effects of guns and laser beams that Fudou could only assume were from the robot anime.

They walked further, Fudou allowing himself to be dragged into the random twists and turns Wada was taking. Eventually, after a myriad of turns ("Hey, you can never be too safe!"), they were well out of the area. Fudou recognised a few buildings and was beginning to get a feel of where they were now, closer to the rougher parts of town that he called home. Not the best part of town, and that was a euphemism.

"All right, we're pretty damn far away now. Now can you say what's up with the kid?"

Wada snorted and coughed. "Shogo is just a stupid kid," he said, his words almost drowned out by said kid randomly deciding to start singing. "But his family is pretty big-shot. Shogo really admires and talks big about his older brother for a good reason."

"And so?" Fudou asked, unimpressed. He wasn't about to give Shogo special treatment just because of his family.

"If anyone who knows Shogo sees him like this, it would get..." Wada paused, searching for the right word, "complicated."

"Huh."

"The kid doesn't like mentioning it, but he's rich. His parents are actually somebody. It would be bad for him, and for us, if they find out that we're the one who made him this way."

 _I was the one who gave him the alcohol and cigs_ , Fudou thought, but didn't correct him aloud. "How do you know this?" he asked, as the boys headed to an empty park bench and sat down, Shogo still giggling in between them. It was going to be a long wait.

Wada shrugged and stretched his arms out to the sky. "I just hang around with him. You hear things. Stuff happens. You know." He stretched, and looked up at the clouds above. It was clear to Fudou that he was being vague, but he didn't push the issue. Shogo's blabbers became nothing more than white noise as both boys settled in to wait this out.

¥

"Riko," Mr. Fudou said too neutrally during dinner time a few weeks later.

Fudou's mother looked up, annoyance already beginning to cloud her face. "What is it, Takeshi? If this is about money again, I swear—"

"Look, I didn't ask for this," Mr. Fudou started, getting angry himself. "This whole thing started because of my boss. We're stuck in this now, and we've got to get through it, but I just want to ask one thing of you. Stop painting me as the villain." His eyes flickered briefly to his son. "I'm not blind or deaf. I know what you're saying. We're not living like we did before, but I'm working hard to get there. I'm trying, Riko." He stared at her earnestly.

"Takeshi," she said, a little uncertainly. "Are you drunk?" Her expression was hurt before turning dark. "I thought I told you to lay off the beer."

Mr. Fudou gaped, then threw his hands into the air. "First you nag at me about our family. Then you pull this." He pushed his chair back, stood up, and turned his back. "I'm trying, Riko. I need you to try too."

And with that, Fudou had had enough. He too stood up and met his parents' subsequent gaze.

"I'm going to take the trash out." He plodded out, movements almost robotic.

Outside, he wasted no time. He hoisted the rubbish bag up and headed to the tip, before sitting down and getting ready to do a good job.

The sag at the corner told him that yes, there were beer cans in there. His dad was still bringing them home. He was still fighting his mum. A mixture of disappointment and satisfaction swirled within, but he didn't let them fester for long.

He first retrieved a pocket torch from his pocket and switched it on, putting it in his mouth. Then he donned a pair of medical gloves, and quickly sifted through the household waste.

The first thing he went for was the obvious culprit: the beer. Setting the cans aside, he then began to sift more carefully, using his torch to illuminate his search. There was no sugar-coating it: this job was pretty disgusting. All sorts of wet and dry waste mingled together to create a horrific smell, and some of the trash had turned a suspicious swampy texture. Still, it was worth it for the money. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar cigarette logo and the corner of a cigarette pack. There was only one pack this time, but it was still unopened and unaffected by its surroundings. Pulling it out of the slush, Fudou stood up and ripped his gloves off, throwing them into the rubbish. The beer and cigs went into one bag and then he was off to the creek for a wash job. That was another delivery accounted for and a couple more thousand yen in the bag.

It crossed his mind his method and source for his poison was a bit suspect, but a simple wash would probably make it fine. After all, it wasn't like he didn't drink the beer and smoke the cigs. And he was still alive.

¥

The next day, he carried the bag to Cap's house, their meeting point for the week. He had barely turned the corner from his house when an older man stepped in his way. It took him a few seconds to recognise him as his father's friend from the week before.

He tried to walk past him, giving him only the weakest of nods (because he was feeling polite), but the man put a hand on his shoulder.

Fudou shook it off angrily. "Look, I don't know you," he began. "So keep your hands off me."

"Just allow me to introduce myself," the strange man said. The urgency in his tone was creeping him out, and the grip on his shoulder was tightening. Alarm bells were ringing at top volume in his head. The man was talking, but Fudou wasn't listening and he finally wrenched himself out of his grip.

"What's in those bags?" the man suddenly asked, suspicion seeping into his tone.

"None of your business," he answered automatically, and made to leave again.

The man's next words stopped him. "If that's what I think it is, you should know that it's illegal for minors to possess alcohol."

"You're crazy," Fudou replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Who do you think you are? Just because you're my dad's friend doesn't mean you can boss me around." He turned his back on the man, resolving to go another way since this guy was so intent on stopping him.

"What?" the guy said. "I think you've made a mistake. I'm actually—"

Fudou whirled around. "I don't care who you are. All I know is that it's none of your business what I or my mother do. So just go away and leave us in peace. Just meet up with my father outside in a café or something. And I won't answer any more of your questions, or show you what's in my bag. You've got no right to force me to answer."

The man was unruffled. "I'm actually a social worker. The police sent me here to follow up on your case." He must have seen the shock on his face, because his next question was tinged with a faint hint of triumph. "Fudou Akio-kun, am I right?"

" _I don't care who you are_ ," he answered, though he spoke more carefully this time. "And I gotta go. I'm late for a party." He turned and stalked away, his heart beating fast, half-expecting a stern hand to land on his shoulder at any moment. Eventually he turned a corner, and sneaked a peek through the corner of his eye.

The man was nowhere to be seen.

¥

He finally reached his destination and rang the doorbell. Moments later, the door opened to reveal Wada.

"Hey, Fudou!" he greeted him with a big smile. "You brought the stuff?"

"Mm," Fudou cut him off noncommittally, and navigated through Cap's house to his room. The cash was sitting in a neat pile on the table as always, and he pocketed it. The gang looked back at him from the TV screen.

"Check this out, guys." Cap gestured at the screen. "Raimon Middle High's in another match against the aliens."

Fudou, interested despite being unwilling, left his bag against the wall and lowered himself into a sitting position, eyes on the screen. One of the forwards, the white-haired one, the violent one, he remembered, was being substituted with a weedy-looking wimp of a boy. That was odd, to say the least. He was walking fine, so he wasn't injured. Why would he be subbed off in such an important match?

Then the alien goalkeeper switched positions with one of his forwards. Fudou scoffed. Now this game was just getting ridiculous.

Cap looked at him strangely. "Thought you didn't know how to play, Fudou."

Fudou became guarded. "I know how to play it." Which was true.

"Really," Cap said, and his tone was the closest to interested he had ever heard from him. "You should play with us on Sunday. We do a weekly thing, just a friendly, nothing too serious."

Fudou was about to open his mouth to reply, when something on TV caught his attention. The alien goalie-turned-forward took a shot. It wasn't a bad shot by any means—it was beautiful, it got past Endou's perfect defence, and it left a sick, bitter taste in Fudou's mouth.

"No, I'm good," he said abruptly. "I don't want to play football this year."

"If you say so. Okay." Cap shrugged and conceded.

Half-time came and went, and the game seemed to be getting better. Of course, that meant that Raimon was doing worse. There was even one glorious moment when the alien forward's shot knocked a bunch of people, including (no, especially) Kidou, over like bowling pins.

And then Endou saved the alien's shot, a fierce look on his face. Fudou knew that look. It was the same look he'd had when he'd saved Emperor Penguin No. 1. And then some kid wearing an orange hoodie stepped into the game. It was nauseating. Sickeningly sweet. It stopped the game temporarily, and was completely against regulation. Exceptions were being made for Raimon, as usual. The audience started to cheer and the announcer went crazy.

Fudou shrank back from the TV.

"Turn it off."

"What?"

"You heard me!" He whirled on Cap, who held both hands up in alarm. "Turn it off."

"What? No." Cap frowned at him. "The rest of us are having fun watching the game."

Fudou pushed Cap, who staggered backwards, having not expected it. His lips were drawn back in a snarl and he raised a hand before he felt himself being dragged back by a few people.

"Come on, Fudou. You're being unreasonable," Maki interjected in between the cheers of the audience.

Fudou was breathing heavily now, his heart rate skyrocketing before he knew it. Taking a deep breath, he stalked towards the door. "Look. It's simple. If you don't turn it off, I'm just going to leave, and I'm taking the bag with me."

Immediately, Wada pounced on his bag, extracting the relevant items and passing them around. Cap shrugged at Fudou, still shaken, but switched off the TV.

"Well, Mr. High and Mighty," he asked. "Since you don't want to watch footy, what do we do now?"

"Actually," a small voice broke in, and a moment passed before Fudou realised that Takan was actually there. There was an odd smile on his normally timid face. Hesitantly, he reached into his inner pocket and took out a small zip-lock bag, with 4 sakura-coloured pills in it.

"Look what I got."


	5. Aerials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Takan have, indeed? He's definitely not bluffing. It's definitely the real deal.

The atmosphere skipped a beat. Fudou stared at Takan, and then at the pills he was offering. He tried to clear his mind and consider the offer rationally. He wasn't stupid, after all. He had been to drug abuse prevention talks held at school, both in Shin Teikoku and the one before that.

"What are they?" Cap asked.

"Ecstasy." Takan dragged the syllables out, looking around at them. The corners of his mouth quirked up. He was gaining confidence right there and then.

"Takan," Cap said, and his voice had an odd slant to it, like it was muffled.

"There's only four," Fudou said, reaching forward to take the bag.

Takan's fist clenched tighter around it.

"You can have one. And me. The rest of you guys will just have to play for it."

Cap shook his head slowly. "Not me. You guys play without me. And you know what? Shogo." He turned to the boy. "You're too young. You ain't having that pill." Shogo protested, but Wada turned on him and they fought for a short while, before the others eventually got bored and pulled them apart.

Moments later, Fudou, Takan, Maki, and Wada held one pill each in their palms. They glanced at each other. The room was silent, and Cap and Shogo watched them intensely. Almost imperceptibly, Fudou swallowed. And nodded.

All at once, like some sort of weird ritual, the four children slapped their palms to their mouths and downed the pill.

Nothing happened, and Fudou gave Takan a look.

"Ah, the guy I got these from said it might take half an hour for these to work." Takan had an uncertain smile on his face.

Fudou relaxed. It did make sense. He fell back onto the sofa and smirked. "Well guys, you heard him," he said, before reaching for a beer.

Cap plucked it from his hands and, in one smooth motion, flicked the tab and took a swig.

"Look, what's the deal?" Fudou started to say, about to get up, but Cap held up a finger.

"Haven't you been to drug talks? Ecstasy and alcohol never mix. You could get dehydrated. Leave this stuff to Shogo and myself."

Well, there was no need to be such a dick about it. Fudou grunted and took a cig out of its box instead. Cap shrugged when he held them up, and within a minute the four who had taken the pill were all puffing away.

The wave hit them twenty minutes later.

The quickest way for him to describe it would be that it was as if something had exploded in his mind. His mouth turned up into a wide grin, and he felt his heartbeat increase to Speed Racer levels. There was a lot of white noise in his brain, but it wasn't a disturbance. In fact, they sounded almost like cheers. His palms were sweating, and he registered Shogo looking at him with an alarmed expression.

"I'm fine, don't worry," he reassured his brother, only semi-aware of the goofy grin on his face. His blood was racing faster through his veins, and his body felt red-hot, and his tongue was the focal point of it all. Fudou grabbed some water and took a large gulp, revelling in how icy cold his tongue felt swimming in the tepid water. The world was going through some sort of change, he wasn't sure what, but it felt imminent.

Shogo approached him and his footsteps sounded in Fudou's mind like the coming of a stone golem, and he jerked instinctively. A large  _whoosh_  echoed through his brain and his eyes opened as wide as saucers, and the newfound clarity of the world shocked him. Slowly, the world was becoming brighter. More vibrant. Everything sharper. Cap's shithole room looked better than before, in fact, it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. The walls were no longer a dingy grey-blue, but a more psychedelic faint cyan. The bedsheets became bright green. Cap's hat was so red, it practically burned a hole through his eyes. And all Fudou had to do was to look at his sheepskin rug and he could feel it next to him, he could sleep on it and run his fingers through it. The sensations of the polyester sofa rubbing against his legs travelled all the way to his back and hips, and it felt funny, like the sofa was tickling him. He couldn't prevent a giggle escaping from his throat, followed by a belch as his stomach rushed up to join the party as well.

He leaned back, feeling the bile travel up his throat but forcing it back down. The talks had said that nausea was a side effect of taking drugs, so this was nothing to worry about. It was normal. Everything else more than made up for it. An energy rush bubbled in and made his entire body tingle. He was ready to take on the world!

Takan fidgeted in the corner, a manic grin on his face, and Wada was buzzing next to him. They were having a frantic conversation, way too loud for him to understand, but their movements and blabber formed a sick sort of rhythm that he could appreciate. He bobbed his head to the beat for a moment while collecting his thoughts and tried to calm the activity in his brain. He was still in Cap's house, after all. He couldn't wreck the place. Things were happening way too fast and suddenly he wanted to play video games.

"Cap, you got any video games?" he asked, but the boy didn't seem to understand his question. Fudou repeated himself several times, feeling the rush of urgency come again and again until it was practically a tidal wave of excitement. Why wouldn't he just give him the damn games already!

Eventually, he wasn't sure how, he found himself seated in front of the TV, slugging it out on Street Fighter against Maki. He was yelling and cursing and so was she. In between accusing each other of cheating and mashing the controller keys furiously in random combinations, they beat each other up again and again. Soon, though he wasn't sure when, it turned physical, and they rolled around on Cap's rug, throwing weak punches and much stronger kicks and resorting to underhanded tactics like tickling, slapping and, from her, the occasional crotch shot. He vaguely registered Shogo's protests and Cap's yells, though he wasn't sure why they cared. It wasn't like he was fighting them, was he?

In the lull of the fight, he breathed deeply and grinned sharply at Maki, who returned it. Then the deep smell of cherries finally reached him, and he realised that it was her lip gloss. The impression of her body stayed like oil on his hands, and he looked at them wonderingly, trying to recall the exact sensations. He could feel the fabric of her thick hoodie and the soft suppleness of her face and arms and legs. Fudou swallowed.

Then Maki turned, a similar expression on her face, and they looked at each other.

¥

Even up to this day, he wouldn't be able to tell you who started it. His next memory was of hungrily kissing Maki, reaching for her, both of them not giving a fuck about their inexperience as they tried to get as close to each other as possible. She still had the presence of mind to slap his hand away as it snaked under her shirt, but she made up for that by pulling him even closer until he could feel her curves and bones even through her hoodie. He ran his fingers through her thin hair, and she buried hers in his bushy mohawk, playing with it and twisting the strands, but eventually just cutting the shit and grabbing his scalp and pulling his head closer to hers. Their tongues battled, and there were a few awkward gnashes and accidental bites and scrapes, but it was all lost in the constant crashing waves in their heads.

They took a breather because unfortunately humans needed oxygen, and he looked at her in a new light. Suddenly there were different facets to her than he had previously realised. Her touch still burned on his skin, and her presence stayed on his hands. Her flushed face evoked twitches in his heart and also in another region. The world swirled, but they both stayed still. His heart was beating at a million miles a minute and he reached for her. Her eyes sparkled, and his fingers brushed her fluttering eyelashes lightly before the moment vanished and they grabbed each other again.

He blinked, and was struck by the clarity of the world even when his eyes were closed, so he closed them again. No, it wasn't just clearer, it was so much better. Maki was still there, but she was gorgeous and godly and the room swirled and spirals sunk in and out of the air around them. He explored her body with his fingers, wanting to know more about her and to learn everything there was about her. Yes, they were kissing, but to him it was now secondary. He was more interested in the bumps and valleys of her body on his skin. (Not the obvious ones, because he wasn't suicidal.) He found himself testing her cheekbones, her collarbones, just rubbing that spot on her kneecaps lightly with one thumb and using the other hand to cradle her shoulder. She was doing the same to his back and stomach and arms and every touch felt like pinpricks and fire and made the spirals spin even harder. Soon he felt like he was burning up, but in the good way and he didn't want to stop.

He grabbed Maki in an embrace, flipping her over so that he could bury his nose in her hair, which smelled faintly of peppermint. They lay on their sides and he once again tried to inch his way up to her chest area. She responded with a very insistent pinch and a pointed jab towards his crotch, which, strangely, didn't hurt very much. Her body shook as she gave several weak coughs.

"You're amazing," he whispered to her, playing with her collarbones again and dotting her head with kisses.

"It's the drug," she responded equally breathlessly, but didn't squirrel out of his grasp. As his lips touched her head, he could feel her jaws working, swallowing, moving relentlessly. It was very distracting but at the same time so unbelievably hot.

"Maybe, but you're still amazing," he insisted, cupping her chin with his thumb and finger to feel the machinations of her jaw even more strongly. She stilled at that, and swallowed audibly. A nerve pulsed along the side of her jaw and he traced it, fascinated. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, and his heart twitched again. The expression on Maki's face was so fresh, wide-eyed, and curious. She was staring at him as if his tattoo had disappeared.

"What?" he asked her, bringing her closer to him in a cuddle. She reached for him, but when it became apparent that she was reaching for his neck, he turned.

"Nothing," she said, her face closing. Her face contorted again, and she coughed several more times. She rolled away and up into a sitting position, before standing up unsteadily. Fudou quirked his eyebrows and gaped. "Come on, man."

"I'm going to the kitchen," she said. "I am so thirsty. I need some water. You drank all of it."

He watched her walk out of the room, bobbing and swaying. Her layers hid her outline, but he could see every sway of her hips. 

¥

He deflated very quickly after that. The world slowly returned to normal and it was just so much shittier in comparison. The greys and mud colours and awful smells were back, and the sheepskin rug was no longer stimulating, just annoyingly itchy. Wada and Takan were still conversing aggravatingly loudly and it was all he could do to restrain himself from yelling at them to shut up. He finally noticed Cap and Shogo sitting in the corner, staring at the TV. Cap had turned the sports channel back on and though Raimon's match was over, reruns were racing across the screen.

Raimon had won. Of course they had. Once Endou regained his form, the match was as good as over. The sight of Kidou Yuuto with his self-satisfied grin and haughty demeanour was too much for Fudou to take, and he snatched the remote from where it lay in front of the two and switched the TV off. Shogo and Cap turned in protest, but he silenced them with a malicious glare.

"I told you," he said in a flat voice, his hand shaking from how tightly he held the remote. "I don't want to see anything to do with football."

To his surprise, Cap's eyes narrowed and he rose. His tone was like acid.

"Look, you've had your fun. Guess who spent the past two hours looking at you and Maki necking? And listening to their babbling?" He threw a hand out at Takan and Wada behind him. "We didn't have that drug. So sorry, we were bored with just looking at the walls."

Fudou closed his eyes briefly and massaged his temples. "There's beer and cigs."

"Well, you guys smoked all the cigs, for one. Don't give me that surprised look. You and Maki were just puffing away. And I'm not a fan of beer. And are you telling Shogo to drink again after last time?" Fudou looked at Shogo, and the boy was silent and wide-eyed, just watching the two. He couldn't dispute Cap's point, though he really didn't remember smoking the cigs, and he reached for one of the remaining beers.

"Don't!" Cap shot out, grabbing his wrist. "I told you! Alcohol shouldn't be mixed with drugs. What are you, retarded? It could actually kill you!"

"Look, shut up..." Fudou massaged his temples again. He had this massive headache and Cap's yelling wasn't helping any. "Okay. I won't take it. Look." He withdrew his arm, and looked at Cap expectantly.

The disgusted expression on Cap's face shocked him. He looked over at Wada and Takan, whose babbles were beginning to die down. They were prone on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, growing expressions of horror on their faces. Maki wandered back in, a tall glass of water in her shaking hand, and plopped down next to him, coughing. She set the glass on the table, deep in thought. Nobody spoke or moved, and Fudou felt like they were all waiting for him to do something.

"What?" he asked wearily, leaning forwards and wishing that there were another cig in the room somewhere.

"You can't really do anything," Cap said quietly. "You're not in the right state. None of you are."

Fudou stared wordlessly at him. He couldn't conjure up a response, and Cap continued to speak.

"Shogo, you should go home. You should all go home." He eyed his rug, a distasteful expression on his face, before getting up and gently pulling Shogo to his feet. "Come on. Go."

Shogo looked at him and Fudou. He was a bundle of nervous energy, an unsure expression on his face and his eyes darting everywhere. He seemed about to say something, but let Cap push him out of the room.

Maki was the next to leave, simply walking out.

Fudou followed them. He spotted Shogo in the corridor, just standing still, as if he were expecting the world to end right at that moment. He started to approach him, then thought better of it. Deep down, he knew what Cap had actually meant. Shogo was from a different world, and even if Fudou liked him, even if they all liked him, he didn't belong. They were messed-up kids, and they would grow up to become fucked-up adults. They could never do that to Shogo.

He looked keenly at the decorations in Cap's house, paying attention for the first time. Cap didn't really belong either. His hallway was dotted with loving family photos, and the only reason they were hanging out at Cap's was because his parents were away, not because they didn't care. A few of them showed a younger Cap with his parents and another boy—a brother, cousin, friend, he didn't know. A photo of Cap and what looked to be Takan when they were kids made him pause briefly before moving on to the door.

Two pushes, a click, and he was out.


	6. Take Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world seems pretty gray and boring after a psychedelic experience. Wandering the streets, the boys rub a few of the wrong people the wrong way, and hide out in a ramen store. Fudou's about to have one of the few encounters that will change his life forever...!

For a while, he stood there, what he'd just experienced running through his mind. The best time of his life and the worst time of his life. He couldn't get Kageyama and Kidou out of his head now, and he kicked at the kerb, frustrated. Neither the sharp chest pain nor the barrage of coughs that followed could distract him. The drug had shown him the beauty of life, but, at the same time, it had also taken it away.

The sound of footsteps jarred him, and he straightened up to see Wada and Takan hurry out. He barely caught a glimpse of Cap glowering in the hallway before the door slammed shut again, leaving the three boys standing.

"Well, what now?" Wada asked him. A slight grin was on his face, but Fudou could see through it. He was just pretending to have swagger again.

He shrugged. "Go home, I guess. You guys feel like doing anything?" He looked at Takan, and the boy looked just as lost as he felt. His eyes kept flitting towards the pocket where he'd taken the pills from, and Fudou suddenly wished that he could just have another one. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so shitty and the world would become better. Even if just for a little while.

"No home for me," Wada said morosely, looking down at his hands. "I don't feel like seeing the old man today."

Fudou didn't ask. He really needed to walk this void off. "Let's just walk, then."

He took the first step, feeling a faint tinge of relief when the two boys fell in line behind him. Each step away from Cap's home made him feel just a tiny bit better, a bit more confident. The world was still grey, but he could handle it. Every turn they made brought them closer to their area, and further from Cap's happy suburban bubble. Fudou began to relax and checked back to see how Wada and Takan were doing.

They weren't doing as well.

Wada looked horrible, completely shell-shocked. His earlier bravado had disappeared and he looked about to burst into tears. Takan looked just as lost as earlier. He chewed absentmindedly, and his hand made occasional grabbing motions and twitches towards his pocket. Even to Fudou, he looked pretty pathetic. Hell, there was no point in denying it. They all looked pathetic.

He didn't turn back in time to avoid bumping into a group of taller boys. He backed up and grunted in apology, but the other guy wasn't taking it. Fudou felt the front of his T-shirt being hoisted up as he was raised into the air into a faceful of pink-haired biker. Try as he might, he just couldn't muster up the emotion to be annoyed or even worried about his situation. Instead, he settled for staring at his captor levelly.

The biker blinked. He seemed unsure of the situation; probably he was used to people being more scared of him instead of looking him up and down. This guy had hot pink hair and matching purple jacket and pants. He was wearing  _cowboy boots_.  _Who_  wore cowboy boots?

"Look, I apologised already," Fudou finally said lowly after a long period of dangling in silence. "I'm real sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't looking where I was going."

That had probably been a mistake. He felt Pinky's fist clench even tighter around his collar and the next thing he knew, he was falling towards the ground. By reflex, he extended his hands out to cushion his fall and was back up on his feet in an instant. One good thing at least was that his body was getting a much-needed adrenaline boost. He felt alive again, and he crouched down in the ready position as he finally gave the three biker gang members a thorough once-over.

Two grunts flanking their taller leader, who despite having pink hair was much brawnier and scarier than Takan could ever hope to be. Said leader whose eyes were frenzied, who looked right about to turn and give his lackeys the order to make them mincemeat. And behind Fudou was one morose lug and a confused broomstick. There really was no chance. Fudou made a run for it.

"COME ON!" was the only thing he yelled as he quickly took off in the opposite direction of the street punks. He could hear Wada lumbering behind him and assumed that Takan was behind him somewhere. His footsteps were just being drowned out by all the shouting and Wada's footsteps. That must be it. The three boys zipped back as fast as their legs could carry them, back the way they came. They couldn't quite make their way back to suburbia due to skilful corralling from the biker lackeys, so they quickly changed tack and headed downtown.

The pain in Fudou's side that he'd become aware of moments back was quickly blossoming into acute stabs and with all the coughs he was holding back, his throat was screaming murder. He wheezed as he ran, but he could hardly afford to stop to cough this out. Loud shouts and curses echoed from behind him, making it clear just what would happen to them if they were caught. Takan had overtaken him (curse his runner's build), but Wada was still behind somewhere, though Fudou didn't want to check his exact progress. Turning back to look would only slow him down.

Ahead of him, Takan zipped into a small alleyway, and he followed suit. It briefly crossed his mind that Wada might not be able to fit, but he quashed it immediately. That was an awful thing to think. Even if it would benefit them if it were true.

It wasn't, as the lumbering steps of Wada echoed even louder down the straight and narrow alleyway. Soon, the sound was joined by the literal stampede of the three biker gang members, who were determined not to let their prey go.

Takan turned another corner, and Fudou arrived just in time to see him disappear into an open door. He barely had enough time to drag Wada in before they pulled the door shut with a loud  _clang._ Fudou pushed the bolt in for good measure, and they huddled in silence. Behind the door, they cowered and froze as the bikers' footsteps slowed and stopped. There were a couple of deliberate sets of steps that Fudou was sure they only did to taunt them. Surely it was obvious where they had gone.

His eyes began to adjust to the dark room, and he figured out from the strong smell (of miso, especially) that he was in some sort of storage room for a food store or something. Slowly, the outlines of Takan and Wada's figures came into view, and he caught their eyes and shook his head grimly. A loud bang hit the door at that moment, and the three boys jumped back several feet as the bikers started to cackle and scream profanities. Fudou sure as hell did not want to show his face out there any time soon. He did his best to ignore them and turned to Wada and Takan.

"Let's find another way out," he whispered to them. Only Takan nodded.

Fudou found Wada further into the room, looking at several jars of stuff.

"Smell it, yo," he told him, leaning in to sniff it again. Fudou did the same and caught the unmistakable whiff of alcohol. Except not really.

"This is cooking wine, idiot." He couldn't help but smirk again. "Don't even think about it. It's not worth it, man."

Wada was about to protest when Takan gave them both a pointed jab and rushed them all into a dark corner, behind some jars. Not a second later, the lights turned on and footsteps approached them from the opposite direction, from within the shop.

A large shadow filled the room and pottered around. Probably doing some inventory or errands. And dealing with the punks at the back door, of course. If they could just sit tight until he left...

The shadow strode purposefully towards the back door and opened it. Fudou stifled a vicious smirk as the man started to chew the bikers out in a tough, gruff voice. He could finally feel his heartbeat returning to normal, and he relaxed. Then his body shook and he choked. The cough burst out with a hoarse, ugly hack, and several more immediately followed. Wada and Takan spun towards him with frantic gazes. Just great.

The gruff voice paused, and Fudou finally realised that he was in a dark room, in an enclosed area, stuck with two other kids, at the mercy of this large man. The sound of rapidly retreating footsteps (of the bikers, probably) told him that yes, he should be scared. Even if he couldn't quite muster up the feeling just yet.

Quick as a bullet he zipped out of his hiding spot, heading for the only light source that wasn't where the big brute was standing. He burst into the store and only had the time to recognise that it was a ramen house before looking for escape. The guy was closing up, but he hadn't locked the front door yet and Fudou sped through, his only priority now to get home. Today had been an absolutely shitty day and he was ready to go to bed and forget all about it. Behind him, he could hear loud yells from the owner and, once again, the sound of chasing footsteps.

He ran so hard that he almost tripped over his feet, before he swayed dangerously around a corner and caught his balance. Using the wall as a springboard, he pushed off again and looked for the next available turn to get off this creepily, dangerously straight road. Behind him, he could hear the loud shouts of the ramen master, his lumbering steps rivalling those of Wada's. (Whose and Takan's steps he didn't hear, surprisingly. Or maybe not.) People were staring at him, and some moved to grab at him, but he dodged them deftly, almost falling over again but pushing himself back up with his arms, like he was executing some sort of odd forward roll.

After an almost unbearable amount of running, the ramen guy's yells faded into the distance, and he stopped in the middle of the alleyway to catch his breath. Finally, he let out the coughs he'd been keeping in great, hacking bursts. His body contorted, and he had to put an arm on the wall to steady himself. Slowly, he made his way deeper into the alleyway, where his presence would be less obvious. He didn't need other people to see him feeling like shit.

It seemed like his weeks of playtime were finally taking their toll. Just when he thought they were over, another cough would bubble up from within and pound its way out from his chest. He was wheezing so hard that it was like he was ripping his throat open with every breath. As he finally finished off what he hoped were his last rounds of coughs, he wiped his mouth again and saw the smear of blood on his hand. Well, shit. That wasn't good.

He turned, only to see the big bear of a ramen store owner behind him filling the alleyway.

He was huge and bulky, wearing a purple uniform with a matching purple cloth headscarf. He wore sunglasses for some reason, and had an ugly scar across one eye. He took a step towards him and Fudou tensed, but another coughing spasm stopped him from completing his planned actions.

The ramen guy gave him a brutal smirk. "Well, not so hot now, are you?"

Fudou stayed quiet and vigilant, the hairs on his body bristling. He was ready to flee at any available opening. He could probably deal with this guy, but the day had been too long and he just wanted to go home. And cough a lot more. The drug hadn't been good for him, and he felt like he needed more water. And silence. And sleep. And then the man said something which put him on overdrive.

"Wait a minute. Aren't you Fudou Akio?"


	7. Grounds for Divorce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE HIBIKI COMETH.

"How do you know my name?" Fudou demanded, though he tried to pass it off as a sneer. He was standing stiff and straight now, backed up against the wall.

He glared at the old guy in an attempt to warn him off. "Are you one of the guys who's been following me home? Because that ain't funny. That's harassment. We don't want to talk to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the ramen shop owner said bluntly. "Don't jump to conclusions, son."

Fudou took a deep breath, and relaxed just marginally. He pushed himself lightly off the wall and turned.

"Don't excuse yourself just yet, boy," the ramen guy said harshly. "I'm not done speaking to you. What have you been doing since your match against Raimon? You look in a pretty bad way."

"None of your business," Fudou snapped and started to walk away. Why did everybody want to involve themselves with his life? He heard the old man come closer, and walked a little faster to compensate.

"Stop running away from me," the guy said, and a large hand closed around his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Fudou immediately froze. The man stilled, too, and when he spoke again, it was in a tone he couldn't place.

"Oh, lord..." the geezer muttered. "I can smell the stink of drugs on you. What have you got yourself into, really? Answer me."

"I don't have to tell you anything," Fudou replied stiffly into the alleyway. He struggled, briefly, but the man's grip on him was too strong. His shoulder was so numb that it didn't hurt, and he was turned around to face the man and the grim expression on his face.

"You should get out while you can, Fudou," the old man said gravely. Why would he care? Fudou glared at him, and found himself wondering why the guy didn't take off his stupid-looking sunglasses. It was nighttime, for fuck's sake. "Addiction isn't something to play with. You have such a future ahead of you."

He scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. I've heard it all before. I went to school, you know. I had Drug Ed."

"You went to school," the man repeated, placing emphasis on the wrong word. Fudou's eye twitched.

"Look, let go of me, old man!" he tried to yell before a fresh spasm of coughs took over. Instead of dropping him, the man held on tighter and supported his frame with his other big oafish hand. After the spell subsided, Fudou cleared his throat, and tried again in a calmer voice. "Let me go. You don't have the right to hold me up like this." The man snorted, and he realised his double meaning too late.

"Who are you, anyway?"

The ramen guy pushed him back towards the wall and moved closer, but let go. "You don't have to mind me. I'm just the ramen guy down the street. But I've seen you play football, Fudou. You have an undeniable talent that can bring you far."

"Well, look how far it got me," he scoffed, sneaking glances towards his left and right. Did no one ever walk through this alleyway? Should he cast his pride aside and scream, hoping to attract attention? Would this guy just take him somewhere quieter if he did that?

The man shook his head. "You're not really listening. You have a talent, Fudou. You led punks into my store, and you led football players on the Shin Teikoku field. Don't waste it on stealing cigarettes. And drugs." He lay the words down harshly. "Come with me, Fudou. Show me the true abilities that are sleeping inside of you."

"Fuck you, old man!" he snapped back, but his words were without venom. Strangely, Fudou couldn't muster up much anger or indignation at the tripe this man was spouting. "You can't tell me how to lead my life. I have it sorted. I can't waste it on football, you know. Football doesn't make money."

The man paused. "Is that really how you feel?" he asked, relaxing just a bit, but not enough for Fudou to dart across him. Then his next words gave him a sucker-punch across the gut. "You valued football enough to bet your scholarship on it. Or were you just following Kageyama's orders?"

Fudou sucked in air through his clenched teeth. He crouched down, and could feel his legs tensing. Football  _was_  his scholarship, you fuck! "How—how do you even know about that?" he demanded. "You don't understand what the whole picture was. All this is none of your business. Who are you, anyway? Who do you think you are?"

The ramen man smirked. "Just call me Hibiki. And I'll extend the same courtesy to you, when you do to me." He backed off, and seemed surprised when Fudou didn't immediately bolt off.

"I mean what I say, son. You've got too much potential to wreck your body for. Look at you coughing already. It only gets worse." He walked off, and after a few moments, Fudou was finally able to move again. He turned and walked the other way.

Giving him the freaking sermon… who the hell did that guy think he was? 

¥

"Welcome back, dear!" his mother greeted him with a smile. "How was work?" He grunted and she frowned, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You look tired. Why don't you go to bed? Don't overwork yourself, Akio. Remember who's actually supposed to pay the bills here. You have to take care of yourself first and foremost."

Fudou nodded wearily. After the alleyway, any other social encounter was just too exhausting to think about. His mother's words trotted ahead of him and left him behind in their wake. He just wanted to go to his room and sleep.

Every step to his room felt like one too much to take. Eventually, after step after tortuous step, he found himself staring at his bed. His last steps were more of a lurch as he dropped his bag to one side and fell through the air, landing on the bed. His muscles felt like lead and even shuffling up the bed to make himself comfortable felt like a chore. His back hurt, which was weird, because he sure didn't remember leaning on it or getting in an odd position that day. Well, except maybe with Maki.

The odd thing was that although he closed his eyes, face-down on his bed, trying desperately to get to sleep, and although every muscle in his body was screaming for rest, he couldn't do just that. Well, it would be more accurate to say that he didn't feel like doing anything, but yet, that there was an unfulfilled hole within himself. If only he knew what to fill it with.

He thought back to the drug, and how for that short, sweet hour, he'd felt like the king of the world. Everything had been beautiful, everything sounded like music, Maki had somehow been hot, and he'd loved everyone. And everyone had loved him.

With great effort he kicked up with one leg and used the momentum to turn himself over. Now lying on his bed, he cast his eyes up at his boring white ceiling. He shuffled again, flexing his fingers to get some feeling back into them, and hoisted them up across his chest to stretch the muscles.

Then he paused.

He moved his arms back where they had come, before swiping at his vest again. A pool of dread was growing in his gut. He checked several more times, but couldn't find it. It really wasn't there.

His necklace was gone.

¥

"Hey, guys," Fudou muttered as he entered Takan's living room, feeling as shitty as three days ago, when the effects of The Drug had first worn off. Wada, Takan, and Maki looked back at him from their various positions on the sofas. Only Wada showed the slightest sad expression, and Takan and Maki looked completely fine, just bored. So he'd had the shittiest crash out of all of them, huh.

"Cap's a no-show, then?" His voice was raspy and mentally, he cringed, but no one said anything about it.

"He hasn't replied, I texted him," Takan explained. "I guess he couldn't handle the harder stuff."

"Speaking of the harder stuff," Maki said, and her tone shocked Fudou in its coyness. Had she ever sounded this waifish? "You got any more of that, Takan?" She leaned closer to Takan, and Fudou noticed that she had her lip gloss on again, and was it just him, or was she wearing slightly smaller shirts?

Takan looked around before pursing his lips in thought and leaning back. "No," he said. "I couldn't get it from my supplier in time. Sorry, guys. But we just took it, you know? We shouldn't take it too much."

"That's right," Fudou echoed, though it was more of an automatic reaction than anything. "That stuff isn't healthy."

The others looked at him sceptically. "And that's why you have this, right?" Wada smirked, jabbing his bag with one finger. He dropped the money for this week in Fudou's palm, and Takan and Maki followed suit. They reached for his goods, but Fudou held up a hand.

"Any of you guys see my necklace around anywhere?"

Wada and Takan looked at each other, nonplussed. Maki put two and two together.

"Oh, the necklace you wouldn't let me check out the other day." She smirked, and it was  _ugly_. Her next words triggered a flare of anger. "You lost it?"

Fudou took several deep breaths before finally admitting, between gritted teeth, "Yes."

"Try asking Cap about it," Takan offered. "Maybe you left it at his place, after... maybe you left it at his place."

Fudou made a smirk, though it felt forced. "Maybe." He began distributing the smokes and beer cans around. Nobody had mentioned Shogo yet, and nobody probably intended to. Fudou didn't want to think of the kid and his toothy smile, at any rate, and he suspected the others felt the same. He pulled out a cigarette from the case and lit it. The movement felt mechanical and brought him absolutely no thrill. It was only after he inhaled the first bits of smoke that he felt just a bit calmer.

He looked at the others, and the others looked at him. 

¥

It was a testament to the network that he'd built for himself that the jobs didn't stop coming even after the group stopped looking for them. Fudou declined most of the ones that came through on his phone, pulling out every lie from the book. School, illness, family issues, dying pets, sports games, field trips, and, his personal favourite, preparing for school abroad. He didn't know why he did that. He was fine and back to normal, but after The Drug, normal was just... boring. It wasn't enough. He wanted to see the bright colours again, hear the swirling patterns in the skies, feel the unique sensations of Ecstasy tickling his skin.

He had a promise to keep to his mum, though, and the gaping hole at his chest only served to force the point even stronger. And out of the few jobs he took, out of so many of the others he'd rejected, there was one that he had no idea would mean so much.

But it was just his luck. The person who opened the door was one of the last people he wanted to see. She was petite, and he recognised her the instant he saw her pink hair, tied in such a way that it wrapped around her left eye and ended in two tails on the side of her head. Her name was Takanashi Shinobu, and she was one of his former Shin Teikoku teammates.

She started and gave him a shifty look. He ignored it and moved forward, waiting for her to let him in. A beat passed before she came back to her senses and backed into her foyer. She beckoned him to wait there and took off up the stairs and into the depths of the house.

Heavier steps came down the stairs and he came face to face with Takanashi's dad. Like his daughter, he had pink hair, but damn if he wasn't the manliest man he had ever seen.

"Hi," he said, resolutely ignoring Takanashi hovering behind her dad. "I'm Fudou, the odd jobs boy. You called?"


	8. The Logical Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We didn't expect Fudou to give up to the forces of reform so easily, did we? He's a tenacious boy! (Tenacious F?) Anyway, now he's come face to face with another remnant of his past. What's he going to do? And you better believe that Hibiki isn't just going to let Fudou go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, yeah, so apparently, when I get my butt down to it (and discover the Rich Text input box) porting this fic over from FFN isn't too hard.

"Good to have you, Fudou-kun," Mr. Takanashi said pleasantly. "You look like a good, hardworking kid. Let's make this work."

Fudou held in a snort. Professional, always be professional. And, of course, Takanashi was there. That meant he couldn't mess up even more now.

After the short "clarify-the-rules" session that he always made sure to have with new clients, he was put to work to clean the shed. (A pretty mundane chore, but work was work.) What he didn't expect was the short slender girl that set a mop in front of him with a scowl.

"Dad believes in the value of hard work," was the only explanation she gave him before she flung the shed door open. A cloud of dust as tall as the shed itself drifted out, and when he opened his mouth to berate her it all went into his lungs and out again in wheezes. He didn't have to smoke to get lung problems, obviously. She didn't fare much better, having made the same mistake when she opened her mouth to retaliate.

After the dust dissipated, she strode into the shed before him and when she started scrubbing huffily it became apparent that she... sucked at cleaning.

He couldn't help but admire the futility of the task for a few moments. Everything in the shed appeared to be coated in a layer of dust at least an inch thick. It was a good thing he'd been blessed with a good respiratory system, because to other people it probably looked like asthma in the making. Also, apart from the numerous dust bunnies, the walls and ceilings were littered with cobwebs, eggshells (he did  _not_  want to think about that), suspicious stains (motor oil, probably), and dirt. There were a few machines in the shed, too, but with the amount of rust on and around them they appeared caked to the very floor.

The whole scene made his next sentence feel very inadequate. "I think you have to add the solvent first. The dirt is caked too hard, see."

She sent him a malevolent glare that actually made his heart stop for a nanosecond. "I knew that. Give it here."

 _What was her problem?_  "Of course." He played along, spraying it liberally on his corner of the shed before handing the can to her.

A few minutes of futile mopping passed before he felt courageous enough to suggest something else. Had Takanashi ever been this scary? She'd always been pretty sweet in Shin Teikoku.

"You know, I think we should take everything out and clean the actual room first. With something like a power hose. Do you have one?" He'd seen a tap near the Takanashi front porch earlier.

She stopped her frantic scrubbing and considered his words for a moment, before finally shrugging. "You're right. Yeah, let me ask Daddy for it."

Of course, while she was off doing that, he had to take care of the heavy items. At least she was nice enough to give him a pair of surgical gloves, though one of the machines (it looked like an old car engine) managed to rip it anyway. When they were done, an assorted array of car parts and artistic equipment decorated the Takanashi lawn. Fudou revved the hose up with a grin, letting himself have fun for a moment. He was the badass about to take on the dusty shed! Man, he was lame.

"Stand back," he warned Takanashi just split seconds before he flicked the hose on. The resulting kickback spray completely drenched him, and grey water—no, more like sludge really—drained out of the shed. It was pretty disgusting, but dust contained plant nutrients, right? The grass would thank them later. Takanashi whistled in appreciation, and he almost felt better about her, until she said, "Hey, the stains on the wall aren't washing off, though."

He sighed. "Remember? You need a solvent."

She glared at him again. "So sorry, I forgot. Sorry I'm not a cleaning pro like you are." Though she probably didn't mean it, he took offence at the jab. Just because he was out of school and she wasn't...

"Does your father want the rust removed from the car parts as well, or are you getting rid of them?"

"We're keeping them," she replied immediately. "Yeah, oil it, clean it up the best you can. I think those caked paintbrushes can go though."

"Looks like you're putting in a whole lot of hard work," he said with a smirk.

He had to duck pretty quickly to avoid her next swing. 

¥

Mr. Takanashi cautiously pushed open the newly-polished shed door and was greeted with a gleaming bright space. It wasn't spotlessly clean and white, but Fudou had sure done all he could to make it clean (without much help from Takanashi). Everything was back in its original position on the shelves as best he could remember, sparkling clean.

Takanashi Senior actually seemed taken aback for a few moments. Eventually, he said, "Wow. I hadn't expected this level of cleanliness. I didn't know that it was possible, actually."

Fudou shrugged. "You can do a lot with water pressure and solvents."

Mr. Takanashi nodded, still bemused. "Apparently. Wow." He shook his head and stared some more. Fudou knew it was none of his business, but there was obviously something at the tip of the man's tongue.

"So… how'd the shed get this way, anyway? The rest of your house looks pretty well-maintained."

"No one's been in the shed for years," Mr. Takahashi said bluntly. "My wife was the only one who ever used it, for her art projects. She passed away almost three years ago now."

"Oh." Fudou didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Mr. Takahashi dug into his pockets and produced a crisp wad of bills. "Here, now you can treat your girlfriend to a nice meal or a movie. A couple of them, in fact." He gave him a smile as he handed him the money.

Fudou let out a short bark of laughter, though he stopped it quickly for fear of offending the man. "Thanks, Mr. Takanashi." He didn't bother correcting him. He didn't want his pity. 

¥

Mr. Takanashi scheduled his next job for a few days later. The younger Takanashi wasn't there because of extra-curricular activities, so it went extremely well.

His mother was waiting for him when he got home. He handed her the money, and was just about to go back to his room when she put a hand on his shoulder. Instinctively, he knew that something was wrong. Her grip was too weak; the motion uneasy. It wavered.

"What is it, mum?" She relaxed slightly.

"Akio," his mother said tremulously, "those friends of yours that you get your jobs from."

"Yeah?" He had to be careful. He didn't know what his mother was leading on to, even if he thought he had a pretty good idea. But please let it not be that she knew about the Ecstasy. Not to mention the trespassing. Had the ramen guy come to rat on him? He wouldn't put it past him.

"Are they good people? I mean, are you mixing around with kids who do drugs, and alcohol, and tobacco?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"No. No, mum! Of course not."

"I know that you're a good boy," his mother continued. "I know that you wouldn't try these things, especially since you have a history of being an athlete. I mean, what would it do to your playing ability and fitness?" She chuckled, and he joined in, feeling two-faced. "But you and I both know that when you're with others, there are more forces at work. You have to be careful. They might get you to try things, and I know that saying 'no' can be very hard. You just have to be careful."

Fudou thought carefully about how best to respond. As the lull grew longer, he was aware of some timer that hung between them ticking down to zero. He had to act quickly.

Eventually, he smiled.

"I'm sorry, mum," he said, shrugging off her hand. "You're right. The people I got to know sometimes drink and smoke a bit. I didn't want to tell you because I just didn't want you to get worried. You have to believe me, I have not tried any of that." He took her hands and stared directly into her eyes. It was a bit dramatic, but as much as he loved his mum, theatrics worked on her. "They've asked me a few times, but I always said no."

His mother sagged, and moved closer to give him another pat, this time on his back. "I'm glad, Akio. I mean, I always knew that you wouldn't get into these things. But it's good to hear it from your mouth."

"Don't worry about that, mum." Fudou let her draw him into a hug, but he was already thinking about what had just happened. It was obvious what brought this on. His mother would never talk to the social worker, hell, Fudou hadn't seen him since That Day. And it wasn't like he had been a particularly memorable aspect of that day either. For all Fudou knew, he could have dropped his case to focus on kids who would actually buy that talk. If he was actually a social worker in the first place.

So it had to be the ramen guy. Cap didn't know where the hell he lived and Fudou doubted that he would be bothered to even make the effort to come if he did. And his mother wouldn't believe any kids either, so him and, at a stretch, Shogo, were out of the question. How the ramen guy knew his address he had no idea, but he had mentioned a lot of details about Fudou's life that were not in public knowledge. That guy was fishy, and probably sweet-talked his mother into considering his words. The desire to know burned in him, but he kept the question down. He didn't want to link himself to the ramen guy. With any luck, this would all blow over.

He relaxed into the hug and couldn't help but feel glad. No matter how much the ramen guy knew, and how persuasive he was, one thing was for certain: his mum didn't suspect a thing. 

¥

Dinner the next day was not the usual affair. Mr. Takanashi had given him a generous tip, and coupled with the beer money it had been enough for his mum to feel like she could splurge a little. What greeted Mr. Fudou and his son when they gathered at the dining table was a bowl of rice with a fried egg on top for each of them, and a plate of stir-fried assorted greens, and two splendidly grilled mackerels for the family to share.

"This looks great, Riko!" Mr. Fudou exclaimed, but he was met only with a frosty acknowledgement of the compliment. Fudou himself said nothing, and only smiled and nodded when his mother asked him if he liked the food.

When Fudou was halfway through dinner, Mr. Fudou put his chopsticks down and cleared his throat. All eyes were now on him.

"I have an apology to make. To both of you," he said, lacing his fingers together and resting both hands on the table. Idly, Fudou wondered if he was resisting the urge to rub his forehead.

"You might say that it's about time. Too late for the realisation, almost. But I've decided to give up smoking and drinking. At least until we are in a better financial situation," he added quickly.

"You were right, Riko." Mr. Fudou's fingers unravelled, and his hand reached up for his brows on cue. "It was an expense we couldn't afford. I bought one more pack of cigarettes today, but it'll be my last. I'll smoke one a day, and then stop."

Fudou remained silent, his mind buzzing. He should have known that this would happen eventually. His dad wouldn't buy alcohol and tobacco only for it to be dumped by his mum forever. It wasn't his place to say anything, so he watched the scene as it progressed. Did his father know? Was this just coincidence? Would he do something? Did the ramen guy get to him too? Would this even matter? Would his father even be effective? His mother was quiet and expressionless, revealing nothing, and Mr. Fudou deflated.

"Well, I just thought I should let you know." He got up, pushed his chair out, and walked away. "It was a good meal, Riko."


	9. The Unthinking Majority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ramifications of Mr. Fudou's decision hit home, and Fudou finds himself in a very sticky situation.

Fudou palmed the insides of the garbage bag one last time, just in case. Nothing.

He pulled his gloves off, wadding them into a ball and hurling them into the bag in frustration. His father hadn't been spinning a nice story to look better in front of his family. He had been serious. And this sudden change of heart couldn't have come at a worse time. Fudou had been selling his trash for way more than market value. It had been working. They had more than a smattering of meat each, for once, just the other day!

But what was he supposed to do? Tell his father to keep buying the goods for him to resell? His father was too weak for that. He'd probably spout something about morals and what was right. Well, dinner yesterday had felt more right than anything else Fudou had experienced in a while.

Damn it. He couldn't just turn up with nothing. Not if he didn't want to go back to becoming Wada's lapdog again.

Fudou washed his hands, but stopped just as he was going to go back to his room. The house was quiet. His parents were out, working. He didn't even hesitate before he turned the doorknob of his father's room and went in.

The room was bare except for the essentials, truly befitting of a man with so little personality and spine. His lip curled as he surveyed the room. The only thing of interest was the lone pack of cigarettes sitting on the desk. Had his father only bought one? Or was he just hiding the rest in some nook or cranny of this room? Fudou didn't go into here much, so he didn't know where the big hiding spots were. But the day was still young. He had time to look.

A cursory search under the single bed and drawers and inside the wardrobe revealed nothing. He opened all the drawers, finding nothing except for neatly folded clothes and some stationery. There was a safe in the wardrobe that Fudou knew contained his father's valuables and important documents. He rapped one knuckle against the metal door, gleaning no useful information from the dull clang that resulted. Well, even if there was anything useful in there, his father always kept the safe key on his person. No point in thinking about it.

There was nothing behind the books on the shelf, or even wedged in between them. Fudou's heart sank, and he knew he was getting desperate when he contemplated moving the drawers to see if there was anything taped behind them. But his father wasn't that smart. He didn't need to be either since he had a locked metal box in his wardrobe. If there were indeed any other cigarettes or a secret alcohol stash in this room, Fudou certainly wasn't going to be able to get his hands on them.

Fudou moodily left the house, lighting one cigarette and taking a puff. Hey, one box was as good as nothing as far as Wada and the others would be concerned, so what was the harm in having one? Briefly, he entertained the thought of going to a crowded square and stealing cigarette boxes from unsuspecting pedestrians. But Fudou had never lifted anything from anyone, and he wasn't too confident about his ability to successfully do so at least ten times without getting caught. No way people would take more than one or two cigarette boxes out with them, right?

No. He wouldn't be able to keep this up, not after his dad stopped unwittingly supplying him, but at least he would go out with a bang. Wada and the others wouldn't be happy unless he threw a big party for his last ever sale. Though he doubted that they would ever go back to their routine of having convenience store parties at the end of each week after that.

Wait… they sold cigarettes in convenience stores, didn't they?

¥

The din in this roadside K-Mart was deafening. This was the third store that Fudou had checked out, and only the fact that the cigarettes were actually placed on an open shelf this time made him grit his teeth and stay. That the shopowner was a small old man helped, too. The excited chatter of little brats talking about the stupidest things was everywhere, only tempered by the old guy's occasional laughs. He hadn't been that loud when he was that age, had he? He had known his place and had known better than to annoy people bigger than him. Like the glowering guy with a mohawk now that had only just avoided being trampled by a mountainload of them trying to buy candy. At least Shogo had wanted cool toys.

Well, one good thing about this was that the shopowner was so busy stuffing those kids full of candy, he wouldn't notice him trying to make off with a considerably more valuable stash of cigarettes. Weren't cigarettes supposed to be in a locked case anyway? This man had clearly been too lazy to comply with the law. It would only serve him right to be relieved of his merchandise.

Fudou hovered around the drinks fridge, pretending to look at the energy drinks, but checking out the prices of the beer cans instead. There was a definitely-not-guilty twinge in his stomach when he realised that he had been grossly overcharging Wada and the others for his goods. Even if he bought them off the old man now, he would still make a profit selling it later. Too bad he didn't have the money. Too bad he didn't have the right card, either.

The conversation topics around him shifted from dumb stuff not worth paying attention to football, which was actually worse. The old man started to talk more too. Was he one of those people with nothing better to do than to follow middle school football? Fudou had always wondered about Teikoku Academy's massive stands and just how many people actually cared about a bunch of kids playing football. Well, he was probably looking at one of them in the flesh. Suddenly he felt downright gleeful to be planning to steal from this man. This loser needed to find something more productive to spend his life on.

Fudou slunk to the aisle where the cigarettes were kept, well away from where the kids were massing, and froze as a voice rose high above the others. "Old man, are you going to watch the game next Saturday, then? My dad's gonna take the afternoon off just to go!"

Just a kid. Fudou relaxed and pushed one packet of cigs into his pocket.

"Hm? You mean the Teikoku game, son? Who was it they were playing again…"

"Mikage Sennou, old man!"

"Didn't that team only reach the second round of the regional tournament this year? They didn't even get into the semifinals…"

"They were playing against Raimon. Raimon! I've been watching Mikage Sennou for three years, and they're really on the same level as Teikoku. You should go see!" It was a different kid this time. Fudou remembered when he had been so passionate about football, practising hard after school every day and dreaming to be one of the big stars he saw in the magazines. He got there. So? Look at him now. It had been a complete waste of time.

But he wasn't about to tell those kids that.

Pockets stashed as full as he could make them without appearing suspicious, Fudou left the aisle and stepped into plain view of the old man.

Nothing happened. He gave the milling kids a look of distaste as he stepped around and through them to leave the store.

¥

He had barely taken one step out of the store before he heard a shout. "Wait a minute, young man!"

Busted.

Fudou coiled up like a spring, remaining there just long enough to see the old man wrestle himself out of the store, a stupid genial expression still on his face. Not actually busted? Or was he bluffing? Eh, whatever. He didn't spare too much thought towards it as he unwound and sprinted forward. He'd already run from a bunch of menacing biker gang punks and succeeded; what was an old man and maybe a bunch of vigilante kids?

The run was quite exciting, actually. The breeze whipped at his cheeks, and his buildup in speed as he went further downhill got his heart pumping. The cigarette packs weren't too heavy, either, so his pockets didn't swing around as much as he expected them to. The old man had been yelling for a while now, but Fudou had outrun any chasers and, eventually, even the sound of his voice. Being a former athlete really did have its bonuses. As the elevation stabilised, he slowed down to a jog.

He turned back to look, and grit his teeth. He could make out the few kids that had bothered in the distance, and the old man out even further behind, but rapidly approaching—too rapidly—was a well-built man. Just his luck. It was dumb of him to think that this would be so easy. Fudou couldn't waste any time now. He zipped along the road as quickly as he could, turning at the first possible opportunity. Little alleyways always worked. Especially since he was smaller and quicker than that Hulk.

His dawdling had given the Hulk a chance to catch up, and he was yelling at him to stop, as well as something about ethics and not pressing charges. Fudou couldn't really pay attention since his only priority was to put as much distance between them as possible. The winding alleyways opened up into a small courtyard in between a whole bunch of houses, and he didn't even stop to think before vaulting over a fence and speeding across somebody's garden. Oops, he just trashed a few flowers, sorry! Not! Fudou house-hopped several more times, only narrowly escaping a bite from a startled Doberman, but managed to lose the man just as his stamina was beginning to fade. Still in the alleyways, he came to a stop and slumped against a brick wall, a triumphant smile on his face. His heart was thumping so hard he could swear that his feet felt the vibrations. He raised his head and took a few looks around just to confirm that the man was really gone, before slowly and silently moving forward, willing his heart to calm down. It was kind of funny that the man only didn't catch him because he'd probably been too ethical to trespass into private property. You really didn't get anywhere if you were a nice guy.

In a much better mood now, he tried to get his bearings. He had the goods, so now he needed to go to Wada's. The others would sort themselves out. Even just the mention of his goods would probably send them scurrying straight to him. That run hadn't even been too hard, so if he found another store ripe for picking, he'd be able to make another sale. Maybe he wouldn't have to go back to being Wada's lapdog after all.

Fudou kept walking, keeping an eye out for any landmarks that might tell him where he was. None immediately recognisable stood out to him. Then, with a slow certainty that sent the hairs on his back crawling, he realised he hadn't seen any signs for a long time. Nor any way out of these winding masses of alleys. His heart became still much faster than would have been natural, and he started to suspect that he had run into the wrong area indeed. He might be better off backtracking, and hope that nobody would be waiting for him from where he'd come from. The way forward literally led into darkness because all the clothes and stuff hanging above him blocked the sun, and it was still the afternoon, for fuck's sake. No, retreating would be a better choice.

He turned around and continued moving. When he hit an intersection, he realised that he didn't even remember enough of his steps to retrace them properly. Stay calm, Fudou. Walk enough and you'll get out of a maze eventually. Well, that wasn't true. He'd heard of some maze in England that you could get lost for months in. One of his Shin Teikoku teammates had told him about it, practically a lifetime ago.

They'd also told him how to get out of a maze. Always stick to the left, take a left turn, and eventually you'll stumble into the exit. Or was it right? Did it even make a difference? Left led into more darkness, and he didn't want to get jumped even though in all likelihood there was no one prowling these alleys.

Fudou turned right.

¥

He'd been walking for ages and a dull ache had built up in his ankles and calves. Fudou sorely hoped that he was somewhere close to the exit, because he didn't think he could deal with this much longer. He'd gone through two more cigarettes, which was actually pretty good given the circumstances, but he wanted to actually have something to sell.

Voices ahead prompted him to hurry his steps, until a shout made him halt them abruptly (and also helpfully concealed his sudden jump). It was a second before his brain registered a Very Bad Feeling but he was already pressed against the wall, crouched and ready to flee.

A voice spoke. Smooth gentleman, this one. "Do you have it?"

The next voice was high and shaky. It caught in his ears and sent rushes of cold down his spine. "N-n-n-n-n-no, but please…"

"Please?" McSmooth again. "How many times have we gone through this? No money, no trade. But I trusted you, and gave you a loan. And you still don't have what you owe?" His voice dropped, and Fudou leaned closer to listen better. "This is the fifth time we've asked."

There was no reply.

The sound of pacing echoed down the alley. "Do you know what we do if people can't pay up and are stupid enough to ask for more?"

More silence, and McSmooth laughed. "Or desperate, I guess. You do look pretty desperate."

There was only a squeak in return, and Fudou didn't know if it was because the guy was too scared or because he was having his windpipe crushed. Or maybe someone's shoe had just scuffed the wall.

His instincts were screaming at him to leave, but McSmooth's next words only increased his curiosity and desire to stay.

"You wanna tell him, Takan?"

What?

Before Fudou could consider the implications of that statement any further, McSmooth laughed again and said something, and then there was a very, very loud bang.

¥

Fudou froze. So did time for a while, it seemed. There was just silence. Pressed against the wall, he spotted the edge of what looked like a large crate, and inched forward. His suspicions were confirmed: there were a few crates against the wall big enough to conceal him. He slowly dropped to a crouch to stay hidden, crawling slowly until he could get a view of what had just happened.

A large shape was slumped against the crate, obscuring much of his sight. It was only when he saw the hand lolling right next to him that he realised what it was.

His blood chilled, and his gut gave a little twitch that turned into a large heave he had to fight to suppress. Teeth grit and fists clenched, Fudou peered through a small gap in the crate. Sure enough, Takan was there, an absolutely terrified expression on his reedy face. There were four other taller guys in their late teens with him, their faces in shadow.

One of the guys in the middle that he immediately identified as McSmooth laughed again and wiped his gun with his shirt. "Well, that went well." He leered at Takan as he tucked his gun into his pocket. "Didn't it?"

Takan gulped, and Fudou couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. What had he got himself into? Scratch that, what had  _he_  got himself into?

"Yes…" Takan's voice lacked its usual presence (which wasn't saying much) even more than Fudou thought was possible. Then one of the other guys took out a small zip-lock bag and Fudou suddenly understood. Well, there went his pity for Takan. If this was where he got his drugs he deserved to be pushed around for even thinking that this was a good idea.

"Guess he won't be needing this then, huh?" the guy said, laughing, and Fudou felt bile rise up into his throat. The hand that was way too close to him was already losing its colour and turning a pale grey. The same guy veered close to the body, and Fudou shrunk back and flattened himself to the ground. But the guy only backed off again after giving Fudou a great view of his pearly whites, and then curled lip.

"You smell that? The guy shit himself. You were too scary for him, Boss."

McSmooth turned towards him and held a hand out. "Give that here." He offered the zip-lock bag to Takan, snatching it back just when Takan took a tentative step forward to take it. "Uh-uh. Not so fast, Scarecrow." His other hand went into his pocket and left it twirling a marker pen. McSmooth gestured at the body (and not, Fudou reminded himself, at him). "Come on. I'll give you the first honours."

Takan took the marker pen with shaking hands. It took him four tries to get the lid off and it clattered towards Fudou, bouncing off the body's hand. Fudou swallowed, realising that he most definitely should not be here. But his foot was numb and any movement sent pins and needles up his foot.

Takan leaned in, and Fudou stayed still, closing his eyes to mere slits and willing his breathing not to give him away. His severely diminished field of vision didn't prevent him from getting a full view of Takan's kicked puppy expression as he scribbled. Disgust rolled up his throat again for a completely different reason.

Takan withdrew, and McSmooth must've been happy with what he did, because he tossed him the bag, which Takan grabbed and clutched at like it was a lifeline. Each of the group took their turn at decorating the body, drawing for so long that there must have been no surface left unmarked. It was entirely too long before they finally stopped and leaned back to admire their work. McSmooth and Takan turned to go, and Fudou relaxed.

"Wait." Fudou froze. His foot was rapidly growing numb again, but he'd sooner cut his toes off than let himself be discovered by these murderers.

"What is it?" McSmooth asked.

"Thought I heard something," one of the guys said. From his low vantage point Fudou could make out the guy turning away from him. Hopefully they would forget about this and leave so he could get the hell out of there with all parts of his body intact.

He was just exhaling a breath of relief when there was a loud bang and the crate he was hiding behind collapsed in.


	10. 絶望不動 [Fudou in Despair]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those guys are definitely not happy that Fudou just witnessed their act of murder. Fudou is stuck in a maze he doesn't know how to navigate, and has to run for his life.

Splinters flew into his face, and Fudou couldn't help it. He let out a loud yell.

"Look, I was right," the guy started to say, but Fudou didn't stick around to hear any more. He booked it out of there. He had to hoist his numb foot forwards for the first few steps, and he grit his teeth as it began to sting. His foot quickly settled down and he was able to reach full speed before it was too late. One last image he caught of the splayed corpse stayed with him as he sprinted. As the commotion started, he wasn't sure what exactly he was running from. 

¥

His elbow scraped against the rough brick, but that was the least of his concerns right now. The whoops and yells behind him were too reminiscent of a pack on the hunt. The good old pain in his chest flared up again, after having been so blissfully absent during his actual crime, and he had to stop to cough, managing to slip out of the guy's clutches only by the skin of his teeth. Deafening wind blew past Fudou, making the shouts fade in and out and come from all sorts of different directions. Or was that because they were spreading out? Were there more of them!? Which way was the right way? These alleyways and their multiple forks.

Fudou took a left and then a right. So much for getting out of this maze: he'd be happy to get out of this alive. His foot met an empty can and in his haste he accidentally sent it flying towards the wall. The resulting clunk thundered through his eardrums. Surely all of them would have heard where he was right now. Smooth move, dick!

Though his chest was burning, and another pain was quickly growing at his side, he kept running. But he knew this couldn't last. Eventually, he would have to slow down. And if he didn't find his way out of this maze, he would be killed. He had just witnessed a murder in cold blood. He had had ample time and opportunity to remember the faces of everybody involved. Fudou had no doubt that if they found him he would be the next one to stare down that barrel.

Shadows bounced across his path, making it hard to see where he was going. It was growing darker as the sun set, and the uneven height of the buildings didn't help matters. The world seemed to be caving in and several times Fudou found himself running in darkness, only able to see a few steps ahead of him. Seriously, with all the running he'd been doing, it was like he never quit football.

Fucking football. The thought of the game and Kageyama's smug laughter only spurred his legs on harder.

He turned what felt like the hundredth corner and felt that despite his best efforts, he might be moving deeper into the alleyways instead of out of them. He slowed down in an attempt to get his bearings and had to dart off again into another corner as a delighted shout came from behind. How big was this fucking maze!? (He would know, he spent the whole afternoon wandering it.) Which way went out? He couldn't keep running forever. He didn't want to die at the hands of a bunch of teenage punks.

A car alarm blared in the distance and he turned towards it as much as the jagged alleyway would let him, the rush of gratefulness stabbing at his heart. He could almost kiss the sap who was probably smashing the car windows in right now. He turned another corner, and found himself on a path that led straight for hundreds of metres. The car alarm grew louder and louder, bouncing down the alley. It was his homing call. At the end, he could make out a larger street running perpendicular to the alleyway. A street. A wide open street. Would have people. He needed people.

The street was empty save for two people headed in completely different directions, who gave him an odd look when he stumbled out of the alleyway. Even the car that had led him there was on another street further up, still blaring away. He must look a sorry sight, wheezing in precious air, taking in the fading sunlight, gaze darting left and right and behind him, practically hacking his lungs out. But now people had seen him. And nobody would forget seeing a kid with a mohawk and a red tattoo on his head anytime soon.

He needed to get to downtown. He needed to lay low. Fudou turned his back on the sounds of the car alarm and took step after step down the road.

And with the lull in action and urgency came the rush of very unwelcome sounds and images.

¥

Fudou didn't make it far before his world started to spin. His stomach was churning again, and when he spotted a public bench ahead he wasted no time in stumbling over and falling into it. He didn't know how long he sat there, crouched inwards, trying to keep himself from vomiting, eyes kept firmly on the ground. There was the occasional passerby, but to them he probably just looked like a brooding kid (devastated by a breakup probably, ha!) and none of them ever gave him a second glance.

He shifted to rest his head on his hands. His elbows supported the whole structure and dug into his knee, but at least the dull pain reminded him that he was still alive. Unlike the pathetic sap in the alleyway maze. How long would his body lie there with a broken skull and ooze coming from his head? A few days at best. Maybe even longer, if the only people that frequented the maze were the punks just now. With how convoluted the alleys were, there was no way the stink from the body would ever make its way out into the open.

Fudou closed his eyes and rubbed at them furiously, but he couldn't erase the image of the lolling hand from his mind. That led to the glimpse he got of the corpse, which hadn't been very clear, but hell—his brain could fill in the details. Fudou's world narrowed and the edges turned grey and fuzzy. The ground started to roll, and only his elbows jabbing hard into his thigh kept him from falling over. His heartbeat was cranked back up again, thumping to the beat of his shallow breaths. There was no one here to see, so he gave up trying to stop it and heaved at the ground between his legs. Lucky he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. He curled his hands into tight fists and pushed down on the bench to keep his balance.

When he was done, he settled back onto the bench, stomach calmer but mind no more assured. He couldn't stop thinking of McSmooth's smug laugh, the gunshot, the way he'd casually put his gun away and the way everybody had vandalised the corpse. They had loomed up at Fudou with sick expressions of glee that he was pretty sure he'd never forget. Was Takan happy to submit to somebody power-crazy enough to abuse his hold of it over a fellow human being and then point and laugh?

He was reaching for another cigarette, watching his hand and keeping it as still as he could, when he had a thought.

It couldn't compare, but he remembered the first time he'd brought them the goods.

McSmooth wasn't too much of a step up from how he'd acted then.

Act dropped, he scrabbled in his pockets for the cigarette pack and came out with an unopened one. One of the ones he'd taken from the store. Fudou ripped it open and shoved one into his mouth, chewing the end of it (it tasted like ass) before he lit it. Luckily, he didn't mess up too badly in the process and burn himself.

He took a long draft of the smoke, relishing the burn and the way it scraped through his throat. It was a different flavour to the one he usually smoked. Stronger and more bitter, though not unpleasantly so. To his disappointment, a few puffs didn't make him feel better, and in fact might have made him feel worse. But he didn't stop. If he stopped taking those deep breaths, he might freak out again.

Then one of the passersby didn't actually pass by, but instead stopped in front of him. Fudou looked up, threw the cigarette aside, and scowled.

This was really not the fucking time.

It was Takan, looking at least as frazzled as Fudou felt. His hair was in a mess and his eyes were bloodshot, and he was panting slowly. Fudou knew the feeling.

"That was quite the show," he began to say, going for a dry quip, but Takan interrupted him.

"What did you see?"

Fudou stopped. He tried to keep his expression calm, but his heartbeat was increasing again, slowly but surely. He shouldn't have thrown the cig away. He shifted his entire gaze towards Takan, taking note when he flinched at the eye contact. "That's none of your business."

Takan came to his own conclusions and Fudou read his intent well before he lunged at him. He held Takan's arms in a vice grip, pulling him closer to him to limit his movements. The moment his arms clamped around him, though, the taller boy spasmed, then lunged out of Fudou's grasp. Fudou fell back onto the bench, shocked. Takan advanced, stabbing one bony finger into his chest.

"You better not tell the others what you just saw." His voice was quick and urgent, with just a faint tinge of hysteria.

Fudou knew his jaw had fallen way down, and took his expression even further to rattle Takan. " _That's_  what you're worried about?"

"You better not!" Takan screeched. "I won't let you! No way in hell am I going to be taken in! I didn't even do it!"

Fudou reached out to shake some sense into him, but Takan slammed his arms down against the bench and held them there. A sharp pain shot from both his elbows to his wrists, and Fudou swore. He tried to wriggle free, even rolling his shoulders and trying to stand up, but Takan held him down. This was definitely not Fudou's day.

"Let me go," he snapped. "I won't rat you out or anything." He wasn't sure how truthful he was being just yet.

Takan snorted, and the grip on his arms tightened. Well, that showed just what he thought of the idea. His eyes bugged out, and his speech was garbling up. "You're a witness. You're the only witness. We've got to silence you. We can't let you talk."

Fudou stilled, realising where this was going. Panic flared up and he looked left and right, expecting and dreading the appearance of any more of Takan's group. Instead, he locked eyes with a middle-aged, bespectacled jogger, who hurried over with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

"Anything the matter, boys?" she asked when within earshot, looking them over dubiously.

Fudou cleared his throat and forced a smile. "We're fine. Fine." He could see Takan losing it more and more with every passing second, and he needed to get out of this grip quick. He cleared his throat again, staring straight at Takan's confused eyes, and made to stand up. Takan shook his head and took one step back. His arms fell off Fudou like putty.

"We're fine," Fudou repeated.

The woman didn't seem too convinced, but after another polite nod from Fudou, she nodded back and continued on.

When the street was empty again, Takan leaped at Fudou, who had at least expected it, though he was not yet ready. After he side-stepped him Takan landed off-balance and stumbled for a few steps, turning to lunge towards Fudou again. "You can't rat us out. I won't let you! I'm not going to juvvy!"

Son of a bitch. This guy was persistent. When Takan rushed at him again, one arm held back and ready, Fudou sent his right fist straight up his jaw. Takan collapsed instantly into a wheezing heap, shaking for a few more moments before suddenly going still. Too still.

It was way too soon for a throwback to just now and Fudou felt sick again. He backed away and drew out another cigarette, but when he raised it up to his lips he could only see Takan's unconscious body. The corpse in the alleyway quickly followed, and then the smug laughter, the feeling of being hunted, the gunshot, the sick glee on the punks' faces. Fudou heaved again and the cigarette fell from his mouth. His hands dug deep into his pockets, and before he knew it he was staring at a pile of cigarette packs, some still unopened, strewn all over the ground. He could still see Takan lying still further up ahead, and a lump grew in his throat. His tongue felt like a dry sponge in his mouth. A cigarette was now the last thing he wanted.

Fudou turned resolutely, and took step after step in the direction of downtown. He wanted to see people. He needed to see people. He would be protected by the presence of people.

¥

Now that he was actually on a road with a sign, it didn't take too long for him to find his way back to an area he knew. Man, had he wandered far. He'd never been in the area the street map said he was in, and only recognised it by name. Fudou's heart settled down as the streets grew more and more packed, until he had to weave around droves of salarymen and OLs making their way home after work. He let his legs do the work now, keeping a watchful gaze just in case he spotted anybody he needed to make a quick getaway from.

This place was starting to look familiar, and it took him a while before he realised that it was the same part of downtown that the bikers had chased him, Wada, and Takan to after they'd taken the drug. His stomach rolled again, but Fudou was ready for it. The long walk had made him much better at suppressing his heaves at every reminder of what had happened in the alley (because, let's face it, there had been a lot of them).

Yes, this was definitely the same street that he'd fled through after the ramen guy caught them in his storeroom. He'd been doing a lot of running away lately, hadn't he?

Fudou slowed, mulling over the ramen guy's parting words to him that day in the alley. What had they been? "My offer still stands," or something like that. He'd wanted to help him, to  _save_  him. Fudou's lip curled, but as he walked further down the street, he turned to look at where the ramen store was.

Huh, so its name was Rai Rai Ken.

The shutters were down, and a piece of paper was stuck to them. Fudou had to side-step and struggle against the human tide to get close enough to read what he already knew.

"Rai Rai Ken is closed until further notice."

He snorted and turned away. So much for that.

¥

There was nothing left except to go home. His grand plan of his last big sale had been kicked to the kerb and crushed to pieces by the entire world, and, well, maybe what had happened was for the best. Fudou certainly didn't want to see Takan ever again after this afternoon, and his life would be completely fine without seeing either Maki or Wada again either. He was starting to think that maybe Cap had been onto something when he'd kicked them all out of his life. Maybe he should have done that instead of being wrenched out of theirs.

All he wanted was to go home, eat what would no doubt be a shitty meal, and sleep. He boarded the bus to his suburb and hurried back, his stomach protesting louder with every step.

Fudou unlocked the front gate without announcing his presence, wanting to make a quiet entrance. But when he inserted the key into the main door, it swung back, taking the key with it.

"Where have you been?" his father asked, holding up Fudou's mobile phone.

It wasn't relief at seeing his son home safe on his face, or even simple anger for staying out too late. Mr. Fudou radiated a righteous fury that Fudou had never before seen, tempered with a little bit of—was he correct?—was that regret?

He saw, or rather, heard his mother sobbing quietly beyond the hallway, and shivered. The worst was yet to come.


	11. Feel Good Inc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jig is up for Fudou, and it's about time, too.

"I didn't believe your mother at first, you know," Mr. Fudou said, "when she told me she didn't throw my last pack of cigarettes away."

Fudou averted his gaze, but his father's next words sent a chill through his spine.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, Fudou obeyed, barely suppressing a flinch when his eyes met his father's. His gaze flickered briefly to his mother, who had regained composure. Her features could have been etched from stone. Swallowing, he looked back at his father. He wasn't some sort of spineless brat who couldn't face up to his mistakes. Fudou Akio could own up to his actions. Plus, his father's fury provided a welcome distraction from thinking about what happened at the alleyway. He could handle his father. At least he wouldn't kill him…

"Akio, have you been listening?" Mr. Fudou's soft voice cut through his cloud of thoughts. "I asked if you've been taking anything more than the cigarettes you stole from me."

Fudou kept his mouth welded shut as he thought. What would be the best thing to say? How much did they know? How much did they think he thought they knew?

But he dropped those questions as quickly as they came. He was way too tired for this. They'd caught him at the right time.

"Yes."

"What? What have you taken?"

Silence.

"You can tell me." Was that a slight tremor in his father's voice? Fudou knew that his father had had a pretty boring, standard life. School, university, and then a job in some company (until he lost it, of course). He probably never expected to be having this talk with his previously athletically successful son. Well, it just went to show how much he cared about the family. After Fudou started bringing back wads of money, he should've seen this talk coming a mile away.

"What brought this on?" the younger Fudou asked, genuinely curious.

His father hardened. "Answer the question. Don't stall."

Fine. "Beer."

"Where have you been getting it from?"

"I've been taking it from the trash when Mum throws your stuff out."

"And you share it with your friends?"

Fudou hesitated.

"Yes."

Behind his father, his mother buried her face in her hands.

His father's voice grew in intensity. "And you make them pay for it?"

Fudou didn't have the energy to shrug, or even to take the edge off his admission. "Yes."

There was another pause. At this point, Fudou's fatigue gave way to apathy and just the slightest curiosity as to how this was going to turn out. Would he be grounded? That didn't sound too bad right now…

His father looked way in over his head. Fudou stared up at him, not even caring anymore. Witnessing a murder and having a near-death experience really made you re-evaluate your priorities. Was this the end of it, then?

Apparently not. Mr. Fudou seemed to make a decision, and he spoke again.

"What about drugs?"

" _What_ about drugs?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Mr. Fudou said through gritted teeth, running one hand along his forehead and kneading his temples. "Have you been taking any drugs?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me, Akio. Come on. Tell me."

A spark of anger ran through Fudou's heart. Surely it was obvious that he had, so why didn't his father just grow a spine and call him out on it? "What do you want me to say? You know already, don't you? Ramen Shades must've told you everything. Yes, I tried it! I never want to again!"

Of course, saying it didn't make him feel better. His father's expression didn't change into something more sympathetic after hearing him express his regret. This wasn't a manga or a drama, after all. His mother shook, and buried her face into her hands.

"What was it?" his father asked.

"Ecstasy. Or so he said." Ah, that had probably been the wrong thing to say. Not that Fudou particularly cared at the moment.

"Who is this person?"

"Someone from the group that I get jobs with."

His father's expression turned grimmer, but Fudou couldn't look away. Moving his head would be too exhausting. Hell, moving his eyes would be too exhausting. His mother let out a sob, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Not right now. Not when they didn't know anything about the whole thing.

"So, your group…"

"It's a real jobs group," Fudou answered. "At least, it was. I never lied to you except just now." Well, he'd lied to his mother, but technically he was only talking to his father right now, and to mention that would make things more complicated, so…

His father seemed at a loss for words. When he finally said something, it only made Fudou feel worse.

"You had a future, Akio… You had a scholarship at a top sports school. And now? What happened?"

How was his past even relevant?

"Please." He let his gaze drop, and leaned back against the wall. Tired, he fell back onto the familiar excuses. "Spare me. Kageyama was a psycho. He had it out for Raimon all this time. It was only a matter of time. He was the one who endorsed me for the school. He told me to challenge Raimon to a match. It wasn't my fault it turned out that way. It's not like I had a choice."

"We always have a choice, Akio! You sent three boys to hospital! We have to look within ourselves with every action we make, see the consequences of those actions, and decide based on those consequences, not based on who's telling us to do things!"

Fudou kept his mouth shut. His father didn't understand. His father didn't understand anything, as always. Having the nerve to preach from his soapbox when it was because of his idealism that they fell into this mess all those years ago.

"I am so, so disappointed in you, Akio," his father said, and that was the final straw. Fudou looked back up at his father, glaring at him through his eyelashes. He could feel his face contorted into a horrible scowl, and his next words were venomous.

"And what have  _you_  been doing, huh? At least I've been bringing money back. We got sardines yesterday because of that money!"

Mr. Fudou gaped. "It's dirty money. What happened three years ago—you were too young—but profiting off this kind of money is the worst kind of act. I can't believe that my son lacks so much in morals. I'm just ashamed of you, and myself. I truly am." Yep, his father had officially gone off the deep end. Fudou tried to pretend that his words didn't hurt, that his father was just somebody who didn't know better, who didn't know what the world was really like… but hell, even now… who was he kidding?

"Go ahead!" he spat out. "I  _am_  a cruel person! It's a harsh world! It was working. We actually had a good dinner for once. They paid. They never told me to stop bringing things over. You're just too much of a coward to dare to do things differently!"

Mr. Fudou stared at his son, and as the seconds passed Fudou felt that burst of righteous anger drain away. It was quiet, and he wondered if he had really yelled at his father just moments earlier. When his father opened his mouth to speak, he rolled his eyes, but this action felt strangely hollow.

His father closed his eyes. "Akio, go to your room."

"No." The reply slipped out of his mouth. One part of Fudou was telling himself to stop being so stubborn, and to get some rest, and this was what you wanted just now, wasn't it? But Fudou wasn't going to let his father end this on his terms. He'd end this his own way.

"Fuck this." Fudou backed through the hallway, one step after another, keeping his gaze on his father. "I'm outta here." He swiped his key from the lock, spun around, and stalked through the yard.

It was only when he swung the fence shut that he realised two things.

One: His father hadn't flinched even once during their whole encounter. And two: Neither of his parents had come running out to call him back in.

¥

Fudou had barely turned the corner of his street before he started to regret what had just happened. It wouldn't have been that huge a blow to his pride for him to accept his punishment and go to his room. At least he would've been able to sleep on a soft bed. He would've been able to get something to eat too. His parents may have been angry, but they wouldn't have been heartless enough to deprive him of dinner.

He started to make his way to town, wanting to put some distance between himself and the house. Though his fury was gone, a dull irritation remained. He accepted that what he did to Wada and the others was wrong on some degree, legally, and probably also morally, since he did overcharge them quite a bit. But so? They couldn't get the goods any other way. He had been doing them a favour. Who was his father to turn his back on all the effort Fudou had put in to try to help the family?

But this had happened before, hadn't it? Shin Teikoku had dropped him when his ties with them became inconvenient. Kageyama didn't even try to hide his reasons and just did it outright. The ramen guy, Hibiki, as well. For all his posturing and pacification that day in the alley, where had he been just now?

His stomach growled, and he cursed. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast… Fudou dug into his pockets. There were no more cigarettes in there but maybe there would be some odd change. Sure enough, there were a few coins in one pocket, one coin in another, and a few more coins in the zipped compartment just above his knee. Fudou gathered them all in one hand and counted them.

96 yen.

Great. That could probably buy him a bun or something.

Still, it was better than nothing. Fudou set off, not worried in the slightest about being out while it was dark. He was far from the turf where he'd witnessed the murder, so he didn't have to worry about them. Nobody would ever think of mugging a ratty-looking skinny kid with a mohawk and a blood-red tattoo. And even if they did, all he had on him was 96 yen. Sometimes it was good to feel like you had nothing to lose.

He walked into the store, made a beeline for the bread section and spent a few minutes picking which to buy. He didn't want to waste his money buying something horrible for what would basically be his entire day's worth of food, after all. When he was done, he headed to the cashier and dropped the bun on the counter. He picked out his money, and looked up at the cashier to see Cap.

It would be hard for passersby to tell who was more shocked. After Fudou realised he was staring, he pushed the bun further towards Cap, not sure what to make of the situation. Cap had a sniffy look on his face, like he was looking at roadkill. Displeased would have been an understatement. It was actually kind of funny, since Fudou could count the amount of times he'd seen Cap without his stoner face on with one finger.

But still, quite an awkward situation.

"Look, Cap," Fudou started to say, but Cap held up a hand.

"Save it. I'm working here. What do you want?"

Fudou still had enough presence of mind to think that it was obvious, what with him holding the bread just now and all. "Apart from a bun, not much. How're you?"

"All right. You gonna pay, then? A line's growing behind you."

¥

The moment he walked out of the line, Fudou ripped the bread packaging apart and wolfed it down. For all his careful selection, making sure that he picked his absolute favourite, he finished eating in seconds and didn't remember anything of what the taste was like, except that it tasted great. He probably could have bought some shitty-ass brand and still have it taste like heaven.

Fudou still had some things to settle with Cap, so he stayed near the counter, waiting for him to finish dealing with the line. When Cap was done, he approached Fudou and glared at him with arms crossed. Fudou curled his lip and stared back. Some things he hadn't lost yet.

"Did you see a necklace around your place anywhere?"

"The one you always wear? No. I cleaned up after you guys left." Cap's normally easygoing eyes gleamed like brass. "Didn't see a thing."

"Okay. Okay." Fudou shook his head and tried to back off, but Cap wouldn't let him leave.

"What you been up to lately? Corrupting more kids and expanding your gang? Starting a drug dealing ring?" His words battered Fudou and he recoiled sharply. No, today was really not a good day.

"Stop it about the drugs thing," he hissed. "And I'll have you remember that it wasn't me who brought them in. Your  _childhood best friend_  Takan did," he stressed, and there was a twitch in his heart at the sudden jolt in Cap's expression. He'd hit a nerve.

"It doesn't save the fact that you were stoned off your ass and that Maki was about to give you head," Cap said in a quiet, yet viciously ugly voice. "In my room. I couldn't stop you. You guys, together, you were all lovey and cuddly, but when Shogo or I tried to talk to you, you answered with punches and kicks."

"What can I say?" Fudou put both hands on the counter and leaned forward, because he was clearly going to be there a while. "Maki's much hotter than you. Obviously I don't want to make out with  _you_." His tone was insincere (take  _that_ , Cap), but he was watching him carefully for any signs of concession. Fudou was ready for a fight, but after everything that had happened today… he really didn't want one.

Cap scoffed. "How's everyone doing?" Fudou heard the question within that, so, naturally, he didn't answer it until the last possible moment.

"Maki is fine. She's becoming more girly. Wada is just around. Takan is fine, too." He knew his tone was bitter, but hell, he'd had enough of hiding things for today.

"You speak of them like they're strangers," Cap observed, dismissing him briefly to deal with a customer and turning back to Fudou when he was done. Cap looked odd on duty. Fudou had half-expected to be kicked out or yelled at already, not this strange thing in between. "The drug thing not working out? You not getting your share?"

The dead body flashed past his retinas again, and Fudou recoiled. "Shut it about the drug already!"

Cap's expression rippled. He looked right about to turn his back.

"Wait. That's not what I meant. Just… don't talk about it." No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the image of the body in the alleyway out of his mind.

Cap paused and backed off, a thoughtful expression on his face. Seconds later, he said, "Well, you wanna wait till my shift ends?"


	12. Inertia Creeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bromance.

In his living room, Cap asked, "Want anything to drink? Nonalcoholic, of course. Parents are around. Complications. You know," he added snidely.

"Piss off," Fudou growled, sunk deep into the sofa. "Anything. Juice."

Minutes later, Fudou was nursing a glass of cold orange juice, while Cap sipped his Sprite contentedly. The TV was on and tuned to Cap's favourite channel, sports of course. Of course. Though the sight of the players running round the field pissed Fudou off, he was content to sit there with his warm water in both hands, in the comfy chair and the relatively quiet room. It went without saying that that was the softest couch Fudou had ever had the pleasure of sitting in in his life. Moodily sipping the juice, he ignored the screen and let his eyes roam around the décor.

The wallpaper was the typical flower shit he expected from middle-aged ladies and was completely different to the clean simplicity of Cap's room. He got a major  _Little House at the Prairie_  vibe from it, but it wasn't nauseating. Fudou leaned back and rested his head deeper in the plush, swivelling around a bit to get the best spot. Then he leaned forward and placed the glass on the coffee table. For the first time, he noticed the magazine on it.

He immediately turned to Cap, who was watching him carefully.

"I knew I'd seen your name from somewhere, you know," Cap said, leaning forward towards him. "It just took me a while to connect the dots." Sliding the magazine towards himself with one hand, he flipped open to the one page and jabbed at it with his index finger. "I thought you were from Teikoku Academy for the longest time, and sure, I got the wrong Teikoku, but Shin Teikoku football captain? What's that kind of guy doing here fucking around and getting high?"

Fudou shook his head. This was so incredibly inconvenient.

"Shin Teikoku doesn't exist anymore," he said. "It was closed down a few months ago."

"I know that," Cap said testily. "I follow the news, you know. This is what you've been doing since then? No other school wanted your abilities? Shin Teikoku had links to the FA, didn't it?"

"Do you know why Shin Teikoku closed down?" Fudou asked Cap, watching his face.

Cap shrugged. "Newspapers didn't say. It was quite shifty, actually. It just happened." He squinted at him but Fudou beat him to the chase.

"Well, if you don't know, I won't tell you then."

¥

"I've been going back to school," Cap said suddenly. Anything to break the awkward silence punctuated only by the overexcited commentator. "It's not too bad. It's actually quite interesting."

"Mmm," Fudou said, trying to sound more disinterested than he actually was.

"I mean, different stuff happens every day, and there's a lot more to do," Cap continued. "With the gang, it was just getting boring, you know?"

Fudou gave another grunt, and turned in the sofa so that he was lying on his side, facing away from Cap. "If you say so."

¥

At some point in the game, it became very obvious that one team was vastly more physical than the other. When push came to shove, they didn't hesitate in doing just that, and they produced some very vicious tackles that made even Fudou wince.

"That's bullshit," he commented. Hearing Cap shuffle around, he looked at him to see him looking back.

"You think?" Cap said vaguely.

"Yeah," Fudou said. "Damn Nagasaki. Can't score goals without being total brutes. Especially that number 7."

They watched some more, and Cap started making snide comments about the various offences that were being committed and flagrantly got away with. That shirt-puller's a dick ("He can suck  _my_ dick," Fudou commented wryly), that looked totally intentional (Fudou disagreed), he was definitely aiming for skin in that tackle ("You do too, don't lie.")

"No, I don't," Cap said testily in response.

"I do. I did," Fudou corrected himself. "I don't believe you."

"I'll prove it to you. Are you still not playing football?"

"What's up?" Fudou asked, though he had a very good idea.

"Play with me and my friends on Sunday. We go to this field that's under the bridge. It's really nice and the grass is well-tended and doesn't make you slip."

Fudou shrugged and reached for his juice. More time out would mean less time home having to face his parents. He dreaded to think what that would even be like after today. And kicking a ball around wouldn't mean much in the end. It wasn't like he had any jobs or anything on Sunday, anyway. But still, even then, the image of Kageyama flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.

"It's fun," Cap said. "We go for a few hours. We're not that good, but we're okay."

Fudou made a show of thinking a bit more, but frankly wasn't in the mood. "I'll tell you later."

¥

"Where were you, Akio?" his mother asked him with a hard voice when he stepped into the house.

"Out," he said neutrally. A flash of irritation crossed her face, so he clarified, "At a friend's house. We watched TV."

"Is that all you did?" she asked in that same voice. She kept her distance from him, he noticed. He nodded, but she didn't falter. Instead, she stuck out her hand.

"Give me your bag. I'm going to check."

"You cannot be serious." Fudou took a step back, and put an arm over it.

"Fudou Akio, don't forget that you broke the trust in our family." What trust? "And trust has to be earned back. I don't trust you, and I don't know how long it will be before I can. Now give me that bag or you're not taking another step into the house."

He sighed. As much as the idea of another few hours in Cap's sitting room appealed to him, he knew that he wouldn't be welcomed back into the house right after he'd left, and so late at night to boot. And he really wanted to just be in his room for a while. Grudgingly, he handed the bag over and tried to keep his face dispassionate as his mother rummaged through it.

Eventually, she looked up. "Look at me," she commanded, and he complied.

"Now tell me again, Fudou Akio. Did you smoke? Did you drink? Did you do drugs?"

"No, no, no," he answered quickly, and something hateful unfurled within his chest. It was utter bullshit that they were subjecting him to the Inquisition now, after he'd lost his appetite for all that.

"Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes." He stared back at his mother, trying not to flinch. He had never before seen the current expression on her face directed at him. Well, at least he knew how his dad felt now. "Look, Mum, I just want to go back to my room and relax."

His mother faltered, and an odd expression flickered through her face. These odd expressions were fast becoming an unwelcome regular feature. She finally backed up, returning him his bag, and waved him through.

"Don't get too comfortable. I need you to do some chores."

Her orders were terse, and Fudou tried not to let that affect him. It almost seemed like his mother had replaced his father with him.

¥

He couldn't look at his bed again without thinking of the day he'd rolled and how he'd been unable to sleep for so long afterwards. He couldn't look at anything without thinking of that, actually. The (nonalcoholic) drinks on his table reminded him of the filches, hell, even the books on his desk reminded him of school and Shin Teikoku and Kageyama. He rolled around in his bed, trying to sleep, before eventually taking out his phone. It wasn't a high-tech smartphone like the ones all the cool kids sported nowadays, but it did the job. Flipping it open, he scrolled through his contacts and his messages.

Communication from Takan, Wada, and Maki had stopped since his last sale. Not that there had been very much of it. It had mostly been stuff like "hey i got the alc" and "where r we meeting" and that didn't make for good conversation. He probably should have talked to them more back when they hung out, but it was too late now. Besides, apart from being beer and cig buddies, they hadn't amounted to much anyway. Vaguely, he recognised the dull irritation he was feeling as bitterness, and he hated them.

He scrolled down further, and saw messages from his former Shin Teikoku teammates. Again, his communication with them had been brief and work-related. Telling them about practice, giving instructions, assigning duties, and, just occasionally, giving advice on game-related matters. He thumbed past them quicker and quicker but stopped, because he knew that it was all there was going to be. Switching to his contacts list, he scrolled through the various people in his life.

Maki. Their little thing had been nothing, really. It had been because of the drug. Sure, he thought she was hot now, but she obviously didn't return this opinion. And Fudou knew that for better or for worse, she had changed. The sexier clothes, the annoyingly coy voice, the way she leaned closer to Takan… there was no way she liked him, she just wanted the drug. He'd liked the no-nonsense Maki who wore hoodies and sneakers and punched boys who bullied her and resisted his advances firmly so much more. He just couldn't believe she'd changed so much so quickly.

Wada. He had been suckered in at first by his friendly and naïve big brother attitude. Then he realised that that was all an act, and that he was surprisingly good at getting what he wanted. Though Fudou did one-up him in the end, getting the alcohol and cigs. That had been the first step. Wada had become friendlier after that, but also weak. There was no other word to describe it. Finally, Fudou recognised Wada's closeness as sucking up, exactly what Maki was doing to Takan now. He supposed everybody had their threshold. But no matter. He had made Wada weak and blubbering, but the drug had been the final straw. The last Fudou had seen, Wada was now no better than Takan's lackey boy. It really was a shame.

Takan. That son of a bitch asshole. He'd been happy that the guy had been able to provide something for once. It had really given him some confidence. But the shit he went through to get it, and the people he ran with… Fudou wanted none of that. He was a bastard, but not the "I suck up to get what I want, then stab you in the back" variety. Nor the "I let myself get slapped around so I can do it in the future" kind. And especially not the "I kill people who oppose me" kind. What would Cap say now if he knew what Takan had done?

Takanashi. Fallen out of his life after Shin Teikoku, but back then she hadn't even been a large part. She was the only girl on the team, but she had just been a fellow teammate. He didn't even remember her being that good, just a quick runner with good ball sense. But just like that, she had waltzed back in, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. Her dad was all right though. He worked hard for him, and in return he got money and no questions asked.

Shogo's number wasn't there, but the kid didn't have a mobile anyway. It was actually quite a mystery as to how he always knew where to meet up with them. Wada had probably told him back then.

And finally, way at the bottom of his recent contacts list, was Cap. It was actually a miracle that he had his number. Fudou pressed the green button on his cell, held it to his ear, and waited for it to connect.

"Hey. It's me. ( _Oh. You coming on Sunday then? Finally thought it through?_ ) Shut up. Fuck off. Where is it? ( _You fuck off, Fudou-kun._  That had a sharper edge to it.  _It's under the highway that runs towards the city, near the metro station. Near the library._ ) What time? ( _We're meeting at noon, but you can turn up later if you like. We're looking at maybe two or three hours._ )" He paused to listen, and grunted. "I'll be there."

¥

Fudou was at the Kita Park football field at five minutes to twelve. He didn't dress especially differently, only substituting his long baggy trousers with sports shorts. In his hand, he held his ball, and as he waited, he kneaded it thoughtfully. He'd carried it on his way there, never once able to bring himself to kick it. It just didn't feel like the right time. It had been a long time not playing football, and he hesitated every time he thought of it again. But he thought of the alternatives to what he could be doing—going back with his tail between his knees to Takan, and hoping that he accepted him back, so he could shoot up some more and spend his life running away and die in an alleyway one day, or staying at home and facing the icy awkwardness between his parents and himself. All in all, this was the most interesting thing he had lined up for him that day.

He caught sight of a group of boys coming down the hill, and nodded at them. Though they probably couldn't see it. He could make out the distinctive red cap and, as they came closer, was surprised to see a little shape tagging along.

That hat was unmistakable. It was Shogo.

Whose eyes bugged out when he spotted him. It was actually quite funny to watch, and if Fudou squinted, he could see the boy jumping and waving his hands around and being his old hyperactive self.

"Someone's early," Cap said when he arrived, in that odd amused yet distant voice. By now, Fudou had learned to ignore it and just take his words at face value. It really was easier that way. He gave a shrug in response, not really sure how to respond.

"I brought a ball," he added, then saw that one of Cap's posse had one in his arms. "Just in case."

"Are you really the Fudou Akio from Shin Teikoku?" another of Cap's friends asked him a bit too eagerly, and he couldn't prevent his eyebrows from shooting up. Did his fame really precede him that much?

Cap laughed. "Fudou doesn't play much anymore. But he plays sometimes."

¥

It quickly became apparent to all of them that he was (still) very good. And it was instantly obvious to him that Cap sucked, and that Shogo had barely played before. The others were all right, but more a ragtag bunch than an organised team. But then again, what had he expected? Another army?

The others never stopped reminding him of this fact.

"So what was playing in Shin Teikoku like, Fudou?" Cap's Friend 1 (because Fudou disliked him the most) asked him again with a stupid grin on his face. You'd think that he would have gotten the message that he didn't want to talk about it after the 10th dismissive grunt, but apparently not. Fudou grunted again, and took the fact that Cap's team was advancing down as an excuse to move away. Cap controlled the ball, though that was a very loose definition of the actual action, down the field, and Fudou relieved him of it with a simple tackle. The first time it happened, his mind stood still for a moment as he marvelled. It was still so easy.

He quickly fell into his natural role of playmaker, gesturing to his team to move up ahead of him. (While ignoring their stupid questions. "Was Shin Teikoku really in a submarine?" "Yes.") This suited all of them. They liked the glory of scoring goals, and he was the one who actually made that possible. Although there was a significant difference in their levels, he quickly got used to playing with them. They were irritating and asked him far too much about his past, but they made good runs and had a decent finishing ability. Needless to say, their team owned the pants off Cap's.

¥

"Wanna stop?" Cap's Friend 2 asked Cap, and Fudou wanted to scream a loud and adamant  _No!_  While it wasn't exhilarating, this was the best time he'd had in a while (since the drug, his mind whispered insidiously). He felt as if he could run for ages and not get tired, but clearly the others didn't. A few of Cap's friends were bent over, panting and clutching their knees, and Shogo had been watching them from the sidelines for a while now. All of them had been running slower and playing less well as time passed.

He straightened up and stretched, waiting for the group to reach a conclusion.

"Fudou," a small voice—Shogo—said behind him, and he turned.

"What is it?"

The kid shuffled his feet back and forth, and Fudou had to wait patiently for his next words. "You were really good. I was kind of surprised. I had no idea." (Fudou tried not to feel offended at that. It did make sense.)

"Thanks." Fudou started to turn to see what Cap and the others were up to, but Shogo's insistent voice stopped him. "Wait."

"What is it?" he replied, frowning.

"Cap… isn't very good, is he?"

Fudou laughed out loud. "No, he sucks. But that matters fuck all."

"Can you teach me how to play?"

That took him off guard. "Well, if I get invited to more of these, sure," he finally said, glancing at Cap, who was still talking with his friends.

"Even if you don't come to these, I'll play with you. We can just meet up," Shogo insisted, and Fudou was almost touched. "Though I think they'll ask you again. I think they like you."

That was it. Fudou's mind was blown. He had been nothing but assholish throughout the entire session.

"I heard them talking, you know." Shogo's characteristic cheeky grin started to return. "They think you're really awesome. Though they say you don't talk much. It's true."

Fudou scoffed and turned away, but it was more to hide the growing smile on his face.

¥

"Why do you play?" Fudou later asked Cap, who laughed.

"You're curious, because I suck? You're hurting my feelings." He reconsidered. "Though you'd do that anyway." Fudou smirked and didn't deny that.

Cap stretched out languorously. "I do it because it's fun. Why else would I?"

"Huh," Fudou grunted. He hadn't expected something so stupidly naïve to come out of Cap's mouth at all. "You think it's fun to be beaten all the time?"

Cap laughed. "You would say something like that. Have you ever done anything that you're not good at before?"

"What?" To him, that concept was unthinkable. The whole point of trying something was to see if you were any good at it. If you were, it meant you had a talent in it. You were meant to do that. If you didn't, well, there were others who could take your place. Fudou just considered himself particularly talented.

Cap rose back upright and looked at Fudou. "You haven't, have you? That can't be true. That ain't right."

Fudou shrugged. "If I'm bad at it, I don't do it. It's not fun to suck."

"Ouch." Cap shrugged. "Well, if you say so."

"It's fun to win," Fudou said. "You play to win. That's all there is to it."

"Well," Cap turned away from Fudou now, and looked up towards the sky and the cars on the highway. "I play football because I like to run with my friends, and I like the feeling when I help the team score a goal. You're a good playmaker, so I thought you'd know that feeling. It's okay if I lose, as long as I did my best and had a good time. The most important thing is that I'm always improving."

Fudou scoffed. "Can it, man. You sound like a self-help book."

Cap smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm just adapting my material to my audience."


	13. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danshichuugakusei no Nichijou [The Daily Lives of Middle School Boys]

"Hey, man," Fudou said into his cell. "I got a job. Moving shit. You free tomorrow afternoon to help me with it? I'd ask Shogo, but I actually care about his schooling."

"Fuck you," Cap replied, and as always, it was hard to tell whether he was being serious. (Though the fact that he was still talking to Fudou suggested otherwise. But you could never be sure with Cap.) "What time is it? I get off at 3. If it's close, I'll come."

"I get off much later at night in the privacy of my own room," Fudou replied smugly. "You dirty shit, bringing it to school. I'm going at 2, but you can come whenever. It's in the Kita area, near Ukima."

"I can make it," was the smooth reply. "Text me the address." Then there was a beep and he was left staring at his phone. What a dick.

¥

He turned up at the Takanashi household at precisely 2 o'clock. Mr. Takanashi answered the door, and looked surprised to see only Fudou there. "Just you?" he asked, holding the door open to let him in. "There's a lot of stuff, you know. And Shinobu-chan won't be able to help you with much of it."

"I know," he said politely. "My friend's coming in an hour. I was just thinking that I'd help you with the smaller things until then."

Mr. Takanashi frowned. "I don't have much of those, and I did them already this morning." There was a pause. Fudou waited for something to happen as the man thought. Then a light bulb turned on.

"Are you hungry, Fudou-kun?" Mr. Takanashi asked. "I've got some leftover fried noodles in the fridge. Why don't you eat that, and make yourself at home until Shinobu-chan comes back?"

And that was how he found himself in the living room for the first time, lounging on the sofa, eating fried noodles off a plate, careful not to spill it onto the carpet. Mr. Takanashi sat on another couch to his side, and they watched the movie channel together.

The Takanashi household décor was vastly different to the only other living room he had ever lounged in (bar his own, of course). Instead of the excessive flower and nature decorations (which he was convinced had overwhelmed Cap so much in his young life that he barely said anything now), or even the reactive minimalism of Cap's room, this room was exotic and homely. Mismatching ornaments dotted the shelves and walls, and everything was soft and fluffy (though nothing beat Cap's sofa). Each side of the wall was painted a different, vibrant colour, but not so bright that he felt that his eyes would bleed out. Tapestries hung along the wall behind the TV, and the sofas themselves were bright red, but not glaringly so. It was oddly soothing despite being so bright, and he could only think of The Drug.

He sighed. People said that there was always one moment in your life that you could look at as the one that changed everything. He was pretty sure that he'd had this moment, and well damn, 14 was a pretty young age for that. Wasn't that kind of messed up?

"What's eating you, Fudou-kun?" Mr. Takanashi asked him, and he shrugged out of habit. He'd never tried to articulate this before, not that he particularly wanted to. It was difficult.

"Girl problems?" Mr. Takanashi teased him. "No big deal, I had them at your age. Or," he paused at his lack of response, "is it something else?"

"I'm just tired, Mr. Takanashi," he said politely.

"You know, you never talk much about your family," the man commented. "What are they like?"

Fudou shrugged. "They're okay. My mum works a few part-time jobs and takes care of us." He hesitated. Did she really? "My father works temp jobs around town. He works hard." The old lies about his father he always fed to anyone who asked slipped out of Fudou's mouth so easily, but as his mind caught up with what he'd said, he wondered: was what he said really untrue?

¥

"Fudou-kun, you used to be Shinobu-chan's captain in Shin Teikoku, didn't you?"

Fudou stirred, and looked at him warily. He didn't want any part of this. It seemed like everyone was just interested in digging up the cracks of his past recently. "Yeah, it was a while ago though."

"Not really. A few months isn't a long time. How was adjusting to your new school then, after the closure? Shinobu-chan didn't have the easiest time, though she got over it eventually. The lack of a girl's football team really hit her hard. We really appreciated how you just let her play in Shin Teikoku, even though girls don't usually compete in the Football Frontier. Teikoku's a lot stricter about that."

"I guess we didn't discriminate based on anything other than skill. Your daughter is really good with a ball."

"How good? National player potential, would you think?"

"Now I wouldn't go that far," Fudou started to say, before pausing to think. "Maybe in the U-14s. The level of U-17 is much higher. But she needs to go somewhere where she can actually demonstrate her abilities. Get to the nationals. If she doesn't get to play in Teikoku, it's useless for her. Is what I think," he added hastily.

Mr. Takanashi hummed thoughtfully and paused for a few seconds. "I guess it's her decision in the end. I'll talk to her about it." He paused again. "You never answered my question. How did you cope with your new school? I hope you had a better time than my daughter did."

Of course he was well aware of that. He'd steered the conversation the other way on purpose, after all. "I actually don't go to school anymore, sir," he answered, shifting.

At this, the older man turned to look at him. Fudou held his gaze. He didn't want to feel any shame, or to get any signs of pity from his client.

"I see," Mr. Takanashi finally said. "Why?"

Fudou shrugged. "I did try to get into schools. They just didn't want me." He clamped his mouth shut, lips pressed against each other, and folded his arms.

Mr. Takanashi didn't talk very much after that. But that was okay, since Fudou didn't really expect him to.

¥

Cap and Takanashi trailed into the living room, one after the another, at half past three. They were chatting animatedly and with a candour that he had never experienced between either of them and himself. Introductions were made, without much help from him, and Cap was settled in with a hot mug of tea that had been forced upon him. After Cap had finished the tea, Mr. Takanashi ushered the two of them down to the basement and gave them their job.

"My niece is going to be staying with us for a bit during the holidays. So we have to convert the basement into a room for her. I've done most of the worst stuff like the dusting and cleaning. I need help clearing the area, though, so I need you boys to carry all these boxes over there," he waved at a group of them, neatly stacked on top of each other and placed right in the middle of the room, "up to the attic. Feel free to take it as slow as you like. If you need help, you can call Shinobu-chan or me. I have to make a few calls now, though, so I'll leave you to it."

Glancing at each other, the boys affected their usual show of machismo (ruffled up sleeves, the stare-eye, bicep flexing, the works) before getting to work. It was mindless work, really, once they'd established a rhythm and procedure for doing it.

Takanashi (the girl) came to join them halfway into the job, though she wasn't very helpful and mostly flitted around giving (useless, but he wouldn't tell her that) advice and talking.

"I'm surprised you're actually taking work right in the middle of revision period. Exams are in two weeks for us, are they over for you already?" she asked.

Cap chuckled. "Exams don't bother me. Never have, never will. And Fudou here, well..."

"I don't go to school, Takanashi," he said, acutely feeling the tic at his jaw throbbing merrily away. "Since Shin Teikoku was closed."

"Wait, what?" Takanashi stared at him. "Why?"

He sighed heavily. Here we go again. "Didn't get any offers. Didn't get accepted to any."

Takanashi stopped. (Though, to be fair, she had never really started.) "You're kidding me. No way." In another situation, her facial expression would really have been quite funny, especially with her jaw almost hitting the ground. She began to wave her arms around before he was ready. "We always thought you'd have the least problems getting an offer. I was really excited when I got the Teikoku offer and I was so so surprised when I didn't see you."

He gaped, not caring that she saw his surprise. In fact, that was the intention. Didn't she remember anything about that day? What was she even going on about?

"Come on, you were so good," she protested. "I mean, me, Gouin, the others, we could play. But you. You were on another level."

Fudou shrugged again, the rolling of his shoulders feeling almost like a constant motion now. "Not good enough, apparently."

"This is bullshit," Takanashi declared. "I'm a manager for the Teikoku football team, and I just have to say that their playmaker sucks ass compared to you. I always wondered which school managed to snap you up." She shook her head. "I can't believe I never realised… and you've been here a couple of times before too."

He tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice. "Did you completely forget about what I did?" he said slowly, pronouncing every word clearly. Her expression twisted, confused for a moment.

"What are you talking about… oh! Don't tell me you mean that. You can't." She gave him an appraising look, and her mouth opened in a small 'o'. "You do. No way. Oh my God. You can't. And don't even think about giving me that look."

He rearranged his features, having not been aware that such a look had been on his face. Takanashi kept on talking.

"Sure, you talked the most to the Commander, you brought his orders over to us, you gave the order for Sakuma and Genda to use Emperor Penguin No. 1… but you were just following orders. You shouldn't beat yourself up about it." Takanashi looked mad now, and Fudou backed up a bit, not believing what he was hearing. "You saved us!"

(Cap twitched at that one. His eyes bugged out slightly and his brows went crazy, and Fudou remembered that he was still actually there.)

"You told us to get the hell out of the sub. We would have kept running around trying to evade the police if it hadn't been for you. For what, too?" She laughed. "It was a stupid idea. You led us too. We couldn't have made it past the engine room without you. That place was a freaking maze." She paused, biting her lip, and he was grateful that she was at least filtering her words. He certainly felt that Cap had heard enough.

"I saved you?" he asked slowly, still in disbelief.

"Yes," she said emphatically. "I can't believe nobody recommended you for some prize. We really all think that. You can ask any one of us."

He didn't speak for a long time after that. His two friends wisely kept silent.

¥

They were sipping ice-cold water, courtesy of Mr. Takanashi, when he finally spoke again. "So how are the others doing right now?"

Takanashi frowned as she tried to remember. "Okay. Well, Sakuma and Genda are back at Teikoku, in the first team. Genda recovered from his injuries pretty quickly, but Sakuma only just started to play again. It really shows." She grimaced, and one corner of his mouth curled upwards. He really couldn't help it. "Gouin and Hikara are in Teikoku as well. They're subs for the first team, and they play for the second team as well. And well, I'm in Teikoku, obviously. I can't play with the team," he didn't miss the flicker of emotions across her face at that statement, "but I help out as a manager. I also joined rugby." She smirked. "It's pretty fun.

"Anyway, a couple of them went off to Kidokawa Seishuu—I think Taiya and Hie? A couple more went off to schools in different parts of the country. Jikuwa went off to Sapporo, and Meza went to Hokkaido. I don't know what Iyatani got up to." She shrugged. "I think some jungle school sent him an offer, but I don't know if he accepted it…" The set of her shoulders and the grimace on her face showed exactly what she thought of that school.

Fudou chuckled. "Seems like they did fine."

"They did," Takanashi said. "I don't talk to most of them much now, but we stuck together for a bit right after Shin Teikoku. We tried to call you, but we could never reach you. What was up with that, anyway?"

"I have no idea," Fudou said truthfully. "I didn't even know that you called."

¥

"That guy is kind of awful," Takanashi commented as one of the characters on screen swerved his car sharply to the right, sandwiching a rival car between his car and the wall, eventually sending him flying sky high and landing god knows where.

"What are you talking about? That was fucking awesome," Fudou said. "The other car didn't matter anyway. He was just one of the enemy lackeys."

"He's still a person!" Takanashi chided. "He probably had loved ones too, you know. Now he's careened off somewhere and probably died, leaving them all alone."

"Or he miraculously survived that crash but had to get cybernetic implants to continue functioning properly," Cap pointed out. "And then he swore revenge on the main characters for doing that. Next movie."

Takanashi and Fudou gave him a weird look, and Cap shrugged his shoulders in defence. "What? It could happen."

"Okay, this movie is getting kinda lame," Takanashi declared a while later.

"I'm telling you, they're just building up to the sequel where the guy returns," Cap insisted with that weird smile on his face. The other two scoffed.

"It is getting stupid," Fudou conceded, then checked the time on his phone. "It's getting late anyway. I gotta go." He didn't want to face his parents again, but getting home any later would just provoke even more awkward conversation. He nodded at Cap, and both boys got up and began to get their stuff.

"Wait, Fudou," Takanashi said. "Do you want to see some of the guys again?"

He paused. No, actually. "Why not?"

"Well, Teikoku is playing an exhibition match on Saturday…"

"Against Mikage Sennou?"

"Yes," she said, surprised. "Been keeping up, have you?"

Fudou avoided Cap's gaze. "Posters are everywhere."

"So, anyway, Teikoku isn't going to pull out all the stops against that team. The only player that's any good is the goalie anyway. The second strings are probably going to be put in, so you could watch Gouin and Hikara play."

"I don't have enough money for tickets," he said, and Takanashi glanced exasperatedly at the wad in his hand before saying, "It's actually free. So you have no excuse."

"I'll go," Cap said, weird smile fully back on his face. "It's a free match to see Teikoku in action. Ain't gonna be better than that for a while."

"Great!" Takanashi smiled. "Come on, Fudou. What do you have on that day? The guys will be super happy to see you during half-time or after the game."

"Besides," Cap added, "you can see if the playmaker really is worse than you. Confirm what Shinobu-chan said." Takanashi mock-glared at him for a moment before turning back to Fudou.

"If you're worried about Sakuma and Genda," Fudou scoffed at that one, "we just won't tell them you're there. Because they really don't like you, you know… they gave us a bit of a hard time when we first joined." A frown crossed her face, and Fudou wondered just how they could have done that in good conscience. They had been equally nuts under Kageyama in Shin Teikoku. He'd pushed them, but it hadn't been especially far. "The stands are huge anyway. They won't see you."

Fudou finally shrugged. "All right. Why not. An excuse to get out of the house."


	14. Needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic stops pretending to be a dramatic & deep character exploration journey and fully commits to slice-of-life.

"Where're you going off to?" his mother asked him the next day. "I don't believe you have so many jobs in one week. You never used to go out that much before. In fact, if we didn't need it so much, I would have forbidden you from going out on these jobs." Her face turned ugly and her voice was clouded with suspicion. "You aren't going to meet up with your friends, are you? There's no more alcohol and cigarettes at home for you to steal for them."

Fudou sighed. "No, I'm not." His friends now had school anyway. "I don't hang out with them any more. I'm going to do some gardening work. I told you. People are recommending me. My network is growing."

"Hmm." She was unconvinced. "It seems like you're just avoiding us. And not doing anything with your life. Look at your father. He might not be bringing back a good salary, but at least he's trying. For the love of God, try to be more like him!"

Fudou openly scoffed. He couldn't believe his ears. There were so many things he wanted but couldn't bring himself to say to her. Instead, he walked out, only waving his hand in goodbye.

At least he did that.

After his job, he hung in the streets for a while, just watching people walk by. His next job wasn't until in a while, so he had two hours to burn not wanting to go home. Right on cue, his stomach growled. He glanced at his money before putting it away. He didn't want to spend any of it right now. He could probably hang on until his next job, since that client was really nice and always offered him cakes and pastries before he started work.

What should he do? He didn't want to go home, and now that he'd ditched Wada and the others (because that was what had happened, not the other way around), he really had nothing to do. The image of the dead man came up again, and to shake it off, he pulled out his cell phone and sent several quick messages to Cap and Takanashi. Of course, that didn't solve his immediate problem.

"Hey, you," someone said, and Fudou looked up. It was a none-too-friendly-looking policeman. "Shouldn't you be in school, kid?"

Fudou got up. He was being moved out of the way. Clearly, he took up too much space in this area or something. "I don't go to school, sir," he said, not trying very hard to affect a contrite tone. "I'm just waiting till it's time for my next job."

The man frowned, and took out his book. "How old are you? You should be in middle school, right? It's compulsory for all kids, you know."

"I know," Fudou scoffed. "How old I am is none of your business." He slung his bag round his shoulders, and started to leave. "See, I'm going. Not disturbing you now, officer. Nor the peace. My mohawk and tattoo must have shook things up a lot. Have a good day now."

"Wait! Watch your tone. Stand there! What's your name?" the policeman called, his voice echoing across even as Fudou broke into a run. He quickly lost him, and as he regained his bearings and saw where he was, he laughed.

Maybe there really were such things as fate.

 

¥

"Hi," Fudou said as he slunk into Rai Rai Ken, which was strangely empty despite it being lunch hour.

The owner—Hibiki, was it?—looked up, and put his soup ladle down. He was still wearing sunglasses for reasons that Fudou did not understand, though he was beginning to suspect that either he just wanted to look cool (he did) or he wanted to hide his scar (not working). There was a beat that Fudou thoroughly enjoyed, that turned into an inward groan once the man spoke. "Oh, it's you. Come to filch more alcohol, have you? I'm just kidding."

Why was his life full of calmly sarcastic people?

"So what brings you here? I thought you were too busy destroying yourself," Hibiki said, before peering at him. His shoulders relaxed (Fudou felt judged), and he resumed stirring his soup.

"You look different. What happened?"

What happened? Fudou tried to think back to when they'd talked last, and realised that the answer was a hell of a lot. As always, the body flashed through his mind. It was still horrific, but what was probably worse was that he was getting used to the image. Instead of explaining everything, he settled for a shrug. "Have two hours to burn before my next job."

"Take a seat," Hibiki said, and Fudou resisted the urge to make a crack about being his first customer in a while. (Even if that was probably the case. The chopsticks resting on their stand looked just a bit too dusty for comfort.)

"Now," Hibiki continued, "would you like to try some of my miso ramen?"

Fudou looked up. "Is this charity?" he asked, fighting against his overwhelming urge to say yes.

"No," Hibiki replied. "This isn't an actual dish on the menu at the moment. I've been perfecting the soup, and I just want your opinions on it."

Fudou was still suspicious, but that was good enough for him. Abandoning all traces of guilt, he said, "Well, why not? I'm pretty hungry."

Hibiki only smirked. "I can imagine."

 

¥

The steaming hot bowl of miso ramen came up quickly, and after the first bite he abandoned all pretences and just devoured the thing like it should be. Hibiki may have known too much about him, and been overly frank, sarcastic, and nosy, but damn if he wasn't good at his job. It made him wonder just why he didn't have any customers.

"It's good," he clarified to Hibiki, since he probably wanted his opinion, before starting the second wave of attacks.

He started to get full when he was around three-quarters of the way through, and slowed down. Hibiki took the opportunity to speak.

"So what are you really here for? It can't be coincidence that you end up in my store out of all the places you could have spent your two-hour break in."

 _Actually, it really was_ , Fudou wanted to say, but that would require an explanation that would be both too long and incriminating. So instead he shrugged, feeling the familiar roll of his shoulders wash over his body like water.

"I thought you might want to know that I've taken football up again."

"Good," Hibiki said with finality. "I knew you looked healthier somehow." Before he could question exactly how healthy one session with Cap and the others could have made him look, Hibiki continued, "So how was it?'

"Better than I expected," Fudou said truthfully. "Everything was still easy. Though it might have been because of who I was playing with."

Hibiki hummed thoughtfully and collected Fudou's finished bowl of noodles. Pouring the soup down the drain (Fudou mourned silently, but there was no way in hell he'd put that much MSG down his throat. In fact, didn't too much of that stuff make you retarded?), he busied his hands with doing the dishes. "Would you like to improve, then?"

This day was full of surprises. "What are you saying?"

"I could train you," Hibiki said, and proceeded to blow all Fudou's assumptions of him out of the water. "I used to play in middle school. I was the captain, actually. And I'm coach of Raimon. The school," he clarified, "not the alien-defeating army. Though I helped out with that too."

Fudou suddenly realised something.

"So that's where you were last week. Helping Raimon defeat the aliens."

Hibiki laughed, and Fudou had the feeling that he was flaunting the fact that he knew something Fudou didn't. By now he was beginning to feel that Hibiki was a grown-up version of Cap or something. They could be (grand)father and son if you based it only on laughs and sense of humour. Cap really had to meet this guy; Fudou would certainly pay what measly spare cash he had to see Hibiki sass Cap.

"Yes," he finally said. "Raimon defeated the aliens and saved Japan."

"Thank you for that, by the way," Fudou said sardonically. "You'll forgive me if I don't show that much appreciation. Was it really that important? The guy had to pay for damages in the end, right?"

Hibiki acquiesced. "It probably could have been contained by the government if things had turned out badly for Raimon. But they did resolve it peacefully."

"So, about this training thing. How's it going to work?"

"I'll drill you on your individual skills. We'll watch games. I would make you play with my other student, but he's not ready yet. He reminds me of you, actually. He was a street punk like you, except he actually listened to me the first time I spoke to him."

Fudou laughed. "On a roll, are you?" It felt odd and yet empowering to be able to speak to an adult so freely.

Hibiki shrugged. "Picking up street punks is a sort of hobby of mine. Personal reasons."

"I've got the game watching thing sorted," Fudou continued. "I'm going to watch Teikoku with my friends on Saturday. Now of course I know we have to watch tapes and analyse plays and all that. I'm a playmaker, after all." It was remarkable the ease with which he was slipping back into it.

"Good, you're well-prepared," Hibiki said. "Come back to my shop in a few days. I've got some details to iron out and I have to check my schedule. In the mean time, continue playing football with your friends. Teaching's good, too, because it makes you put the concepts into words."

Nodding, marvelling at the miracles fate and a free bowl of ramen could create, Fudou left, deciding not to make any wisecracks about customers. There were some lines that shouldn't be crossed.

¥

Cap and Shogo had some time after school on Thursday to play for a bit, and Takanashi somehow caught wind of it (damn Cap) and was there waiting for them as well. Takanashi and Cap were fooling around (she was owning him), and Fudou was on the other side of the pitch. He stood in the mouth of the goal and kicked the ball to Shogo, who received it clumsily, but successfully.

"Now, just kick the ball into the net," he said, and readied his stance a bit. Gotta make the kid feel good, even if he didn't expect much.

Shogo wavered, and Fudou nodded sharply for him to get on with it. Finally, the kid backed up before starting his run up to the ball. He slowed as he neared the ball (hmm), used his left foot to kick (interesting), and didn't trip over (better than expected—hey, this kid had learned what he had from Cap). The resulting shot wasn't overwhelming, but Fudou let it sail past him into the goal anyway. It was actually a decent shot for someone who was new to the game, and Fudou said as much. Shogo grinned, flooring him momentarily. He thought he'd never see that smile again, but, just like football… it had been so easy.

"You know, just a bit of practice and you could be beating Cap at this," Fudou commented and chuckled at Shogo's eyes popping out. "Yes, it's true. Now, the main problem with your shot was the lack of power. You're kinda small right now, so you have to put your body into it. When you kick, start with your foot low and bring it up real high even after the ball's left your feet. We call this the 'follow-through'. Try it."

He moved back to the goalmouth and passed the ball back to Shogo. After a moment's hesitation, the boy ran up to the ball again and sent it sailing towards him. Sure enough, his leg went up higher this time, though it should still be higher for someone of his stature. At least until he grew a bit. The ball flew past the goal with more power, and Fudou grinned.

"That was good, even if you missed. Something too weak will just get caught or punched away. Just give it all you've got for now and you can work on aim later." He took off in a slow jog to retrieve the ball, which had rolled into a ditch.

He returned to see Shogo trying out some tricks with the other ball while Cap and Takanashi took a break.

"How long have you been playing football?" Fudou asked, and Shogo bounced the ball off his knee one more time before turning to him.

"I only really just started. I used to kick around a bit with my brother when he was in elementary school, though. It's true," he added, seeing his disbelieving look.

"It just seems like you've been playing for a lot longer, that's all," Fudou said. "Maybe not your shooting, but the way you handle the ball is pretty good. You're improving quickly."

Shogo turned pink. "Really?" he said quickly, before clearing his throat and modulating his tone (which Fudou thought was kind of cute). "Well, I still have a long way to go though. It's true."

"We all do," Fudou said, his mind wandering to unwelcome topics.

"My parents don't let my bro play much anymore though," Shogo continued, and Fudou was grateful for the interruption even though there was no way Shogo was sensitive enough to see his discomfort. "They want him to study hard and he's busy with cram school. It's true."

Fudou snorted. That was something he couldn't even dream of affording. Not that he wanted to. Cram school didn't sound like a pleasant place at all. It was a good thing that he managed decent enough grades when he was still at school. Plus, he had always been on a sports scholarship, so it had never been an issue.

He looked at Cap and Takanashi, who were still relaxing and chatting. Cap looked up then, and tapped at his watch. Fudou nodded. The sun was already beginning to set and soon there would be no point in trying to chase a ball that they couldn't see.

"Hey, look." Shogo pulled at his arm and pointed. Fudou turned back and followed his gaze to see two figures watching them from the bridge, and recognised them as Maki and Takan. Just as he locked eyes with them, they turned and walked away.

Fudou shrugged; some things couldn't be forced. He had learned by now that he couldn't always get what he wanted. And he had no interest in prolonging the present, either, until it became unbearably stilted.

He watched Shogo run towards Cap and Takanashi. As they got ready to go home, he waited for the moment to come to its natural end.


	15. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Teikoku vs Mikage Sennou match! And you know what that means: actual football in an Inazuma Eleven fanfic. Gasp!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a bit confusing because it focuses on two relatively unknown teams playing each other. If you get lost, I'd recommend just going with the flow or actually looking up Mikage Sennou's and Teikoku's formations on the wiki. (Just remember that Hikara and Gouin are subbing in for Teikoku in centre-back and right MF.) Of course, if it is still confusing, I'd appreciate it if you told me where!

Fudou dragged Shogo to the match to see how real football was played.

("If you wanna get good at football, you need to see how it's done in a proper team, not the way Cap and friends do it."

"You're Cap's friend too, you know!"

"That's beside the point.")

Teikoku's starting lineup was reasonably conservative and familiar—but of course, Kageyama had coached them too previously. And say what you may about the man, but there was no denying that he was a damn good coach. If he squinted, he could make out Gouin and Hikara. Gouin stood in the back line, as a centre-back, while Hikara was a right midfielder. Both positions that were different to the ones they had in Shin Teikoku, but only in terms of side. They would be fine.

He also saw Sakuma, standing with one hand on his hip (snort) at the top of the field, and Genda in ready position at the goal. And, of course, Takanashi was flitting around the bench doing her job as manager.

"Okay, look," he instructed Shogo, pointing at the field. "The two up there, they're the forwards. They score the goals. The three below are the midfielders, who pass the ball up the field. Lots of the fighting for the ball happens in the midfield. They also get the ball from the defenders, who are the five guys in that curved row below, see." He traced the outline of the row with his fingers. "They try to stop the other team's forwards from scoring, so they tackle, intercept, help defend the goal, kick the ball away and so on. And of course the goalie guards the net. He's the only one allowed to use his hands, but only up to the end of the penalty area. With me so far?"

Shogo nodded. "I kinda knew that already, Fudou. I mean, everyone does. It's true."

Fudou shrugged. "Just making sure. Cap, you look pretty interested, so why don't you scoot closer." He smirked. "Don't pretend now."

Mikage Sennou were just playing your standard 4-4-2 formation. Fudou could already imagine Teikoku tearing them to pieces with the imbalance in their defence and midfield, since the defenders on the side could just run up and help. He almost felt sorry for them.

"That reminds me," he said. "Do you guys know what I mean when I say 5-3-2 formation?"

Cap scoffed, and Shogo shook his head. Fudou didn't know what the hell Cap meant by that—was that a yes, a no, or what?—but at least Shogo had given him a pretty unambiguous answer.

"Okay. That just says the order the players are laid out. The numbers always add up to 10, because the goalie will always be in the same place. There are 11 players in a team in a proper game, remember. The first number is the amount of defenders, the second number the amount of midfielders, and the last number the amount of forwards. So Teikoku's playing a 5-3-2, though they can easily switch to a 3-5-2 since the defenders on the side—the wing-backs—can just run up and help." That was the beauty of their system, really. "In fact, it could even be a 3-3-4 if the wings run up high enough. If they're fit enough," he conceded. "That field is too fucking long to go up and down that many times."

"If you say so, Fudou," Shogo said, craning his neck around to try to get a better view. "I don't really get it." He was shouting now, but his voice was drowned out as the stands erupted into a roar. Fudou jumped up, too, just as the referee raised his hand, and rushed to the balcony (thank all gods for front-row top seats). He felt Cap join him on his right, and Shogo stood on the raised platform, holding onto the bar both to prop himself up and for support so he wouldn't tumble into the crowds below.

Fudou marvelled at the fact that there _were_ crowds. It was just a middle school friendly. Why the hell was it such a rock concert?

¥

Teikoku won the coin toss, so Mikage Sennou started with the ball. They passed it off to one of their defensive midfielders and, after the second pass, were intercepted by one of the Teikoku midfielders.

("That's what I mean when I say that the fight happens in the midfield."

"Right.")

Mikage Sennou didn't give up, though, and Fudou let out an appreciative whistle as he realised what they were trying to do. One didn't simply hustle a team like Teikoku with as much vigour as they were putting in. And as he leaned forward to get a better view, he could make out the goalie yelling something and gesturing forcefully with his hands. The team moved fluidly, like a machine, according to his orders. Quite impressive.

Fudou still didn't have his hopes up for them, though. Though they kept up the intensity, the ball gradually travelled down the pitch towards their goal. It was mostly fielded by Teikoku's midfielders and up the wings, and speedy little Hikara was really putting in the effort there. Mikage Sennou kept at it, though, the whole formation save one striker collapsing downwards to help out the defence. And then Hikara sent a cross high into the air ("When you send a high ball from the side to the middle, so that the forwards in the middle near the goal can just kick or headbutt it in, that's a cross.") aimed at Sakuma, who leapt up to reach it... but was too late (or too small, Fudou snarked). The goalie ran up, leapt up, and caught it.

"SO CLOSE!" the announcer yelled, going nuts over absolutely nothing at all in Fudou's opinion. "And Teikoku misses their chance to score an early one, thwarted by the superb defending of goalie Sugimori Takeshi! Great judgement, Sugimori! Great jump! Great composure!"

Teikoku ran back to defend as Sugimori sent the ball out high into the air towards his midfield. Sakuma was shouting something at Hikara, and, Fudou noted, was also running a bit slower than he remembered. Or maybe it was just because he was watching it from so high up.

"And Sangou gets the ball! Sangou Baku, this is a guy to watch, folks! He scored 4 goals last season despite being only a midfielder, and he's able to use his considerable bulk to power his way up the field! But! With their trademark efficiency, Teikoku closes in on him. It's two against one, ladies and gentlemen! Sangou sends it back to Oobe who sends a long ball to Inada on the other side. He runs up! He outruns the defenders! He's overlapping!" ("Overlapping is when you run out of your normal zone. It's good if you want to bring more people in to help with the attack, but if they take the ball, you'll have one less person to defend.") "The defenders catch up to Inada, but he sends up a cross up top! Who will get it? Shimozuru, Mikage's star striker!? Or his partner Yamagishi!? Or the K.O.G. ("King Of Goalkeepers, fucking retarded nickname. I'm not jealous of him one bit.") Genda!?"

It was neither. Fudou's former teammate, Gouin, had run into the fray, with his fellow defender from the weak side taking his spot. He jumped up, and although he wasn't able to gain possession of the ball, he managed to knock it into the air again. Just when he and the Mikage Sennou forwards landed, Genda jumped up and easily caught the ball. It took Fudou a lot of willpower to admit this, but that had been a good case of field awareness and prediction on Genda's part. Another reason why he liked him just a bit more than Sakuma.

"Genda kicks the ball to Oono and Mikage Sennou rush straight back to their half. Intending to pack it in, are they? The tactics they're playing are incredibly intensive! Will they be able to keep it up for the whole match? Shimozuru marks Oono on his way up, the ball goes to Narukami and immediately Fujimaru and Shimozuru close in. I can't believe I'm saying this, but the teams are evenly matched! Teikoku may have the home advantage, but Mikage Sennou won't give up! Both teams have good teamwork and passing and superb goalkeepers. I'm excited! This is going to be a good game!"

Fudou tuned out from the sensationalising commentary for a moment to focus better on what was happening on the field. Although Teikoku could have formed a super-offensive formation by having the wing-backs run up, they didn't. Whether it was because of tactics, because it was still just the start of the game, or because the players just weren't fit enough (he knew he wasn't for sure), he didn't know, but now Teikoku was outnumbered on their offence. There were five of them in Mikage Sennou's half of the field versus eight Mikage Sennou players. The Teikoku midfielders were hanging on, unwilling to give up momentum to the other side and performing quick passes to each other before they were individually fully overwhelmed by the rushing Mikage Sennou defenders. They were trying hard, but it was a clear case of numbers. At the same time, though, it was just the start of the match, and Fudou understood why Teikoku couldn't commit its defenders higher up. But this development made him just that bit less certain of Teikoku victory.

¥

Half an hour later, the situation hadn't improved. Many supporters had withdrawn back to their seats now, watching in anticipation for who would make the first mistake. Fudou, Shogo, and Cap were still on the edge of the balcony (mostly because of Shogo).

The playmaker, Sasaki, apparently, was moving the ball up, and Fudou had seen enough of the ebb and flow of attack on both sides now. Takanashi was right. Even after his break from football, he was still way better than this douche.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with this guy technically. He was pretty decent, on Takanashi's level at least. His only problem was that he played too rigidly. Even in a defensive formation like Teikoku's, flexibility and the ability to adapt to unexpected developments were a key requirement of any playmaker. Unexpected developments like Mikage Sennou's ferocity and seemingly never-ending bursts of energy.

He could see it now, and it was genius. Apart from the wings, none of the players in Teikoku were used to running quickly, for long periods of time, and having to dodge attacks while they were doing it. They were tiring. Sakuma was practically a snail now and Fudou wondered just why the hell they didn't sub him off. The defenders were also doing poorly. Gouin and his fellow centre-backs were moving slower, reacting less quickly, turning sluggishly as the Mikage Sennou forwards ran circles around them.

It wasn't really any of their faults. You had to give it to Mikage Sennou—they knew how to play their marks. But everyone, especially Sakuma, was throwing the whole attack plan off sync and the playmaker just couldn't cope. If he were in that situation, Fudou would give Sakuma a massive kick in the balls and tell him to get on with it or get off the pitch. But he wasn't, and now that he had a reason to believe that Mikage Sennou might win, well... let's just say that Fudou was torn between supporting them and gunning for his former teammates and friends.

The only problem with Mikage Sennou's strategy was that of fitness. It all depended on how much they could run before they got tired and had to back off and give Teikoku some space. But Fudou could feel it, and they probably could too. It was just about to happen. With a few minutes left till half-time, it better. As if having just realised this, Mikage Sennou upped their intensity right before their very eyes.

The ball was being brought up by Teikoku, again, but the 8-man Mikage Sennou defence was holding them at bay. Sakuma held the ball near the edge of the pitch, trying frantically to prevent the Mikage Sennou defender from kicking it out of bounds off his feet and gaining possession. Hikara made a run up, calling and holding up a hand, and Sakuma passed. Hikara turned and attempted to volley ("That's when you kick a ball that's still in midair.") it to Jimon and maybe hopefully the goal. But something went wrong. His body was at a weird angle, or he tripped, or maybe he was off-balance. The ball went flying into the air.

It landed at the feet of the Mikage Sennou midfielder, Fujimaru, who wasted no time and passed it up to the middle of the pitch without hesitation. Having left Teikoku's forwards and midfield in the dust, the team facing Teikoku's defenders now numbered 6 against Teikoku's 5.

It was time.

¥

Everybody sensed this. The audience swelled up and leapt out of their seats again, and Fudou, Cap, and Shogo were pressed against the balcony as they all leaned in to have a closer look. The Teikoku midfielders were doubling back as fast as they could, but even Shogo could tell that it was a lost cause. In the dying seconds of the first half, they were irrelevant now. It was up to Gouin, the other centre-backs, the wings and, if worst came to worst, Genda to do their jobs, but Fudou felt himself rooting for Mikage Sennou. It was that tingling feeling in the spine that came from experience that told him exactly what was going to happen next.

The Mikage Sennou midfielder brought the ball up until he absolutely had to pass because too many defenders had come too close to him. You never would have thought Teikoku would panic, but this school had brought Teikoku down to that level. Teikoku, with its infamous Death Zone tactics, once the proud holder of a 40-year Football Frontier regional championship streak. Sure, some second-strings were on now, and maybe the actual first team wouldn't have been driven to making that mistake. But as Fudou watched Teikoku's defence line collapsing and swelling like iron fillings being repelled by a magnet, he wanted to give Mikage Sennou a high five. He would reserve that for the goal, when it happened.

Not if. When.

Predictably, the Mikage Sennou midfielder passed to his teammate lurking in a wide-open hole that had been created by too many Teikoku defenders running to cover the person with the ball. Said defenders started to run towards him, and, with remarkable maturity, he let them. Until they got close enough. Shimozuru ran in from the corner, probably screaming his guts out. The ball was sent to him, cutting beautifully through the crowd of defenders, and Shimozuru shot the ball. Genda dove, but the ball didn't head towards the net, instead curving towards the other forward. Utter genius and composure at this crucial moment in the game. The other forward sent the ball into the net, his leg ending up way above his head in the follow-through. Fudou tuned back into the commentary just in time to hear his name.

"And was that beautiful or WAS THAT BEAUTIFUL!? What a play! WHAT A PLAY! With an assist from Shimozuru, Yamagishi scores one for the team against Teikoku, bringing the score to 1-0! That's first blood, folks! Home advantage or no, Mikage Sennou's hard work has finally paid off! The ref has raised his hands, the players have stopped. It's half-time, folks! Once again, the score is 1-0 to Mikage Sennou! The goal was scored by Yamagishi Seri in the dying seconds of the first half! It's Yamagishi! YAMAGISHI! Enjoy half-time, folks, because I sure know who will!"

¥

"That was really cool," Shogo said solemnly once the stands had cleared a bit and the boys finally had room to breathe.

"Fucking awesome play," Fudou agreed. "They knew exactly what to do. They probably planned for this to happen. Either that, or they've got very good teamwork."

Cap shook his head with a rare unironic smile on his face. "That was cool, man. Fucking awesome like you said. These guys are way above my league. They ran for ages before that goal, too."

Fudou nodded. "Can't believe they could do that. God knows I can't."

"So, the playmaker," Cap said. "How is he?"

Fudou smirked.

"You're actually asking a question about the game? Who replaced you with an alien? I thought you just wanted to chill out and have fun and not worry about too much."

Cap shrugged. "I'm just interested, is all. You blame a guy for wanting to know?"

"I think he's not too good," Fudou said bluntly. "His skills are okay. But he can't adapt to the game. For example, Teikoku was completely overwhelmed by Mikage Sennou after 10 minutes, if not at the start. A good playmaker would have given orders on where to run, so his teammates would waste less energy going in random directions just to avoid their defenders. I'm not sure he said anything. All he did was just pass the ball."

"And playmakers are like generals, huh?" Shogo asked.

"Kind of." Never once in a million years did he expect himself to be at a football game telling his friends so much about plays and roles and tactics. "Not the ones who lay in the back formation, or who decide the tactics for the match. Those are the goalkeeper and the coach respectively. The playmaker is supposed to implement the coach's orders and to tweak them in a way that's best for the game. Like an extension of the coach on the field. Normally, the coach's orders will be accurate enough that not that much change is needed, so players won't get confused and the playmaker's job is easy. Teikoku's playmaker fails even in that aspect, though."

His friends had fallen silent, and Fudou looked up from the view of the field over the balcony. Cap had crossed behind him to stand slightly to his side, and Shogo was staring at the newcomer with wide eyes. Fudou chuckled. Well, of all the damn things.

"I knew it was you. Your tattoo and bald head scream out at me from anywhere," Sakuma said, his eyes red with fury. He was breathing heavily (the most inappropriate snark about fitness crossed Fudou's mind). "I can't believe you'd dare to show your face here."

Fudou said nothing. Sometimes no response was the best response.

"Shut your trap and don't insult our players," Sakuma continued. "At least they can play with no shame. At least they didn't have to resort to what you did."

Cap and Shogo shifted, but Fudou still didn't move or speak.

Sakuma stalked towards him, and Cap and Shogo fell in front of him. "Get out," Sakuma said. "We don't need you as our supporter."

"You can't control what I do, and besides, this game is free for all to watch," Fudou pointed out, strangely calm, and Sakuma leapt at him with a scream.


	16. Monster

Fudou closed his eyes and braced for the hits. There was a lot of noise roaring around him and it was all very confusing. When no hits came, he opened his eyes again to see Cap and Shogo still in front of him, arms extended out. Sakuma was at a distance, being held back by, oh. He recognised that brown lion's mane. It was Genda.

With a great wrench, Sakuma struggled out of Genda's hold, but did not move closer towards Fudou. He was still breathing heavily, and his crouched stance reminded him of a wounded bear. Unstable. Ready to strike at any moment.

Genda's deep voice rumbled over towards them. "I'm not happy to see you here either, Fudou." Briefly, Fudou wondered whether Cap and Shogo were feeling star-struck at being in the K.O.G.'s presence. "We're not going to forget what you did to us easily. Maybe never."

Fudou shrugged. He kept his gaze level, and Cap and Shogo milled about, waiting.

"Leave, Fudou," Genda said, throwing a hand out to stop Sakuma from lashing out again. "We don't want you here."

Cap's stance changed. He stood a little straighter, and Fudou recognised that as a sign of bad news, but he was too slow to stop him.

"It seems like you guys are reacting adversely to your poor performance in the first half," he said slowly. "Your emotions are clouded and you're being unfair to Fudou-kun." Fudou just wanted to groan at that statement, which was anything but helpful. If only he could see Cap's face now, because he was willing to bet that there was a shit-eating grin on it.

Sakuma let out a bark of laughter (for the briefest instant, Fudou saw a sea lion). "Not much has changed since we last saw you, then, Fudou," he spat out. "You got a new bunch of followers. Tell me. Did you do to them what you did to us? You still working for Kageyama? Come to spy on us, have you?"

"Who's Kageyama?" Shogo demanded. "Fudou's never said anything about him to us! What are you talking about? He's been really nice to us!"

Sakuma and Genda laughed. "Really?" Genda said sceptically, and Fudou felt inclined to echo that sentiment. Had he really? He could only think about the drugs and Takan and Maki and Cap's quiet anger and Shogo's muteness, and the dead body in the alley, always the dead body.

"Cat got your tongue?" Sakuma said. "That's funny, because I remember you talking up a storm in Shin Teikoku. Commander this, Commander that, get stronger, sell your soul to the devil! Remember that? Because I do."

"What's he talking about, Fudou?" Shogo asked in a scared little voice.

"I can't believe this. Well, maybe I can." Sakuma had a mad grin on his face now. "Of course you'd never tell them. Who would want to follow a madman like you? Kageyama's dog? You know how long I was put out of commission after my injury? The one you forced me into, Fudou. I was out for 10 weeks."

 _Oh, so it's only been that long since Raimon_ , Fudou realised.  _Just over 10 weeks._

"And Genda was out for 1 month. You did this to us. I hope you feel bad. I hope you feel terrible. I hope you feel so guilty that you'll never play football ever again. Though, seeing what you did in the match against Raimon, I somehow doubt it."

"Leave him alone, guys!" a voice screamed at them from the distance, and Fudou turned to see Takanashi rapidly approaching them. Her side ponytails and the hood of her tracksuit combo bounced violently in the air as she ran.

"Oh," Genda said, sounding anything but pleased. "Well, look who else has arrived."

¥

"Fudou did nothing wrong!" were the first words out of Takanashi's mouth when she reached them. She doubled over, her hands on her knees, breathing heavily, but straightened up quickly and advanced on Genda and Sakuma. She jabbed a finger at them. "What are you guys even doing here? You need to be in the locker room! The coach is going over tactics! This is no time to be going over your petty grudges!"

"I wouldn't call them petty, Takanashi-san," Genda said threateningly, at the same time that Sakuma said, "Petty? Do you have any idea what he did to us, Takanashi? You know what?" Sakuma strode forward, Genda following, and gave Cap, Shogo, and Takanashi a hard look square in the eyes. "Since he never told you, why don't I. You can all find out what kind of an amazing human being you've been following all this time."

"Nobody has been following anybody," Takanashi gritted out, but Sakuma ignored her.

"We were in the hospital, Genda and I," he said. "Bedridden. We'd lost to Zeus Junior High like, I dunno, a few weeks before. That team was another one of Kageyama's creations. I don't need to spell them out for you. Artificially enhanced with steroids to make them super-strong," he spat out. "Raimon had just defeated them to become the Football Frontier champions. Our bones were healing, internal wounds were closing up. We were looking forward to going back to Teikoku and getting stronger, and having a rematch with Raimon and the other schools. And then he appeared," Sakuma gestured at Fudou with a malicious smirk on his face. He looked almost as if he were enjoying this. Well, if Fudou had been in his place, he probably would have been.

"One day, Fudou swings in through the window," Genda continued, more softly, though his voice took on a harder edge at the next sentence. "He steals a banana from my fruit basket. He insults Teikoku. He asks us about our aims for the future. Before I finish talking, he throws the banana peel at my face. He laughs at us."

"He goes crazy," Sakuma took over in an intense voice. "He grabs Genda by the collar. He tells him to get angry, to stay angry. He calls us trash. He tells us to take our hate and bottle it up to make us stronger."

"He grabs my hand and puts it to his chest. His heart beats loud, loud enough that it goes through my bones. We know now that you used the Aliea meteorite to control us," Genda accused him in a low voice. "You were wearing it round your neck, and you made me touch it. You piece of scum. My mind was swirling and all I could think about was power, power, power. You talked so quickly and you sounded so crazy. You manipulated us with the meteorite and made us only care about winning. It's all because of you that we were willing to use the forbidden techniques and destroy our bodies."

"A secret plan," Sakuma said bitterly. "I can't believe we were so stupid."

"Look, that doesn't prove anything," Takanashi said, throwing her arms back at Fudou. "You said it yourself. He was wearing the Aliea meteorite as a pendant. It could have been controlling him too. You just touched it. He was wearing it the whole time!"

Genda faltered, but Sakuma didn't. "And so? He hasn't said anything about it. Which means he's still under its control, or that he was never in the first place! He liked it! He loved to spread hate! And he's doing the same to you!"

"He doesn't have his necklace anymore," Cap said, though his lips were drawn back slightly and he avoided Fudou's stunned gaze. "He lost it."

Sakuma sneered. "That just proves he was that bad in the first place. It's really great that you're defending him, but think about it. If he's so great and blameless, why isn't he saying anything? Why isn't he rebutting our arguments? He's got nothing to say! It's all true!"

The others looked at Fudou, who still didn't move. He couldn't, really. His mind was in overdrive, analysing every last thing happening in the scene. Sakuma's fury, Genda's hesitance, Takanashi's adamance, Cap swaying from foot to foot, Shogo's eyes darting about, Genda taking a step forward, the muscle in Sakuma's jaw clenching, Takanashi staring at him, everyone looking at him… he wanted to say something, but he was detached from the scene. It wasn't happening. He couldn't open his mouth and make the sounds.

"This is the guy you're following," Sakuma finished. "Leave, Fudou. You're pathetic. Takanashi's right. We have to get back to our locker room, but we're not going to do that until you leave. You're inconveniencing all of us and making us suffer, just like you always do. Come on, Fudou. Go out. Leave. Get out of all our lives."

¥

There was a long pause. Cap and Takanashi had run out of things to say. And of course they had, since Fudou hadn't provided any statements to corroborate with their claims. If he were in their position, he'd be frustrated too. He remained rooted to the ground, and looked up again just to glance at Genda and Sakuma. The former merely looked grim, while the latter was still beside himself with fury. He shook his head again and smirked, though it felt funny. Like it hadn't come out the way he'd wanted it to.

And then Shogo spoke.

"Look… you guys are saying that Fudou did some really bad things. And it's true." Fudou turned sharply to look at Shogo, who continued to speak. "But he's done some really good things too. He didn't come here to disturb you all. He didn't want you guys to know we were here." Fudou felt like he should scoff, and reached inside his mind for the reaction, but found it strangely barren and lacking. He couldn't scoff, for it was nowhere to be found. The emotion was inappropriate. Shogo was speaking the truth.

"Fudou's been teaching me football," Shogo continued in a determined little voice. He stared defiantly at the two Teikoku players now with his chin up. "Ask Cap, uh, um, him. This whole match he was talking about tactics with us. He's been teaching me how to play on the side too. He taught me how to shoot and I'm a lot better now than I was before. Fudou doesn't really talk about stuff, but he really loves football. Just like you do. He's got just as much right to be here as us, and you're not kicking us out. And I think it's really unfair that you're actually kicking people out at all. We're all just here to have fun."

Cap smiled slowly at that last statement, and let out a breath he'd been holding.

"Look, kid, you don't understand," Genda said brusquely. "This is our home turf. Fudou has done too many things to us that we can't forgive. Just as you wouldn't want your worst enemy in your house, we don't want him on our grounds."

"I still don't understand what he did to you!" Shogo yelled out in frustration. "You must have wanted the power to join him, right? He didn't make you want it! He just pulled out what was already there! And he gave you a team to join that you must have wanted to, because you did! It's the same with us, too! He didn't corrupt us in any way. We're not following him or anything stupid like that. He's just our friend, and he and Cap are the only ones that stuck with me after everyone else started to try stuff!"

Fudou vaguely registered an alert signal, and tried to discreetly tap Shogo on the back. But the kid kept barrelling on. "The others all started to drift away after they started smoking and drinking and doing drugs. But Fudou stayed. He's loyal to his friends, and he doesn't back down on his promises, and if that doesn't make him a good person, I don't know what does!"

"Kid. You kid, oh, you kid," Genda said slowly, though his eyes held a sharp glint to them, and were fixed on Fudou. "You'll understand why-"

"You gave them cigarettes, alcohol and drugs!?" Sakuma interrupted him, glaring daggers at Fudou. "Oh, oh, oh. This is a new low, even for you. I can't believe you. You weren't just content with wrecking our futures. You had to ruin theirs as well?"

Fudou coughed. It was a small, discreet cough, but it galvanised his throat muscles and finally, magically—he could speak again. "Only cigs and beer," he clarified. "Never drugs."

"Like that changes anything!" Sakuma shouted. "I can't believe you! How old is this kid! Like 8!?"

("10," Shogo muttered, but nobody heard him under Sakuma's tirade.)

"It doesn't," Fudou said matter-of-factly. "There is no excuse."

"And I'm glad you realise that," Sakuma said acidly. "You really disgust me, you know? I never thought that you would improve after Shin Teikoku, but to get worse? What do you even do nowadays? Did any school even accept you after finding out what you'd done!?"

"Hey, watch your words," Cap started to say, but Sakuma whirled on him.

"And you! You've been defending him, but he doesn't deserve that! You, kid, you said that everyone left after they started to smoke and drink and do drugs. Who gave it to them?"

And there it was, the thunderclap, the silver bullet, and now the pouring rain.

"He did! He was the one who started it all! Do you think that if he hadn't done any of that, your friends would have left? You would still be together! I'm willing to bet that they would have been better company than this creep!"

Cap didn't reply. Shogo didn't, either. Genda looked slightly uncertain, and Sakuma was still heaving, but in his eyes was the glimmer of triumph.  _You've done it now, Sakuma_ , Fudou wanted to say.  _Now you've had your chance to get back at me. Are you happy now?_  He averted his gaze towards Takanashi just in time to see a look of absolute horror on her face. And, at the same time, the stands started to fill up again. People headed in, bumping against each other and them, finally noticing that the Teikoku players were in the stands. Many had heard the past exchange and were staring at him with expressions of utter distaste on their face. No matter where he looked, there was nothing comfortable to rest his eyes on. Fudou's gaze fled further and further away, up and along the bleacher rows until it finally landed on the bright green sign saying "EXIT".

He took the advice. He shoved Sakuma and Genda out of the way and high-tailed it out of there.


	17. Hit the Floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fudou, run.

He ran hard and fast out of the stadium and into the streets. Blindly, he picked the best direction to run and continued up that way for a few minutes. When he had burned his muscles enough that they screamed for mercy, he stopped, and regained his bearings.

Fudou fished in his pockets and pulled out what change he had. It looked enough for a bus ride. Methodically, he looked for the nearest bus stop, and, when he reached it, looked for the bus that would stop closest to his house. A short 4-minute wait (yes, he kept an eye on the time with his phone) later, he was on the bus, trying not to look at the outline of Teikoku Academy disappearing into the distance.

He had his keys ready by the time he reached his doorstep. Stabbing the key into the keyhole, he twisted vehemently and opened the door with a large wrench, not caring what his parents would think. After he stepped into his house he made sure only to slam the door behind him and throw off his shoes before stalking up the stairs. His toes grabbed onto the soft carpet as they walked, ripping out the polyester, and his fists were clenched so tight his nails drew blood. Fudou shook, and he had to hold himself on the railings to keep his balance. His heart was thumping hard and the largest storm in the world was brewing between his ears.

When he reached his room, he threw the door open again and walked inside. The closet door was the final obstacle, and when that was dealt with, he began to grab bunches of his clothes and hurl them backwards, not caring where they landed. On the floor. On his bed. In the trash can. It didn't matter. His everyday clothes disappeared first, and then the ones he didn't wear as much, his uniforms, the ones he didn't like any more, the ones that were far too small for him. And then there they were, right in the corner, stuffed at the very back of his closet. Fudou pulled out the two offending pieces of clothing with shaking hands, running his thumb over the embossed logo.

 _Tei_. Imperial. Royal. They had been on the top of the fucking world.

He thought back to the games they had played. Touching the uniform again made him feel like he was back on the submarine, back on the pitch and playing football again. He could hear the shouts of his teammates, the whistles of the ref and the crowd, the scraping of spikes and shoes against the turf. He could smell fresh dirt (Kageyama despised astro turf, one thing they both agreed on), the overwhelming stench of sweat after a good game and all of it mixed with a faint hint of salt from the sea. He could taste victory and the sweetness of even plain water after training. He remembered the matches they'd played and the things they'd gone through. Fudou could recall a clear arc of improvement even in the short time they'd trained together. They may have played for the bad side, at least in Raimon and Teikoku's eyes, but they had still been a team. They'd played together, trained together, evolved together. So who the fuck were Sakuma and Genda to turn their backs on that so quickly?

Slowly, almost reverently, Fudou brought the shirt to his face. Immediately he was assaulted with the memories and impressions that were so vivid, they put his past musings to shame. This was back in a time when he still had his scholarship and he still had football. It was a time long gone, and he needed to let go.

He pulled furiously at the shirt. Dropping it on the bed again, he grabbed the two sides of the collar and tried to rip it apart, pulling as hard as he could. The sharp tearing sounds were satisfying, and he did it again, once, twice, three times, until the pieces were too small for him to grip properly and he was left with ribbons of a shirt and his football shorts.

Fudou wanted nothing to do with those either, and just then, it struck him what he should do. Enchanted by the pure simplicity of the idea—and yet it seemed so right—he grabbed the uniform fragments in both hands, clenching them hard so that he wouldn't drop any by accident. He headed downstairs, only just now realising that the house was empty, and left the house, locking the door behind him. Fudou took step after dogged step to the local trash dump, and stopped just short of the neighbourhood incinerator. It was empty, probably having just been emptied by the trash man. That was good. He wanted this to be clean.

His hand wavered, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself.

He threw the pieces of shirt into the incinerator and watched as they fluttered unceremoniously into a heap. Then he reached inside his pocket and pulled out his lighter. It took him a few tries before he finally managed to get a flame going, and he lit the corner of the football shorts. Fascinated, he watched the flame grow for a few beats, before also dropping the shorts inside. The fire slowly spread to each individual piece of shirt, and they started blackening and shrivelling.

¥

The uniform burned slowly, the flames taking their time to travel across the material. Dark black smoke began to dissipate from the flames, and it smelled of scented wax—sweet, almost sickly so, and dark, and oily, and disgusting. The shirt pieces burned and melted and slowly twisted about, joining with each other and the shorts to form a large misshapen piece of thing. Bits of uniform began to peel off, separating from the main mass and eventually burning out into shiny black beads. The green and red of his past was slowly eaten by the flames until everything became just tar.

Fudou leaned as close as he could to the flame, until the heat was almost unbearable and he felt that what little eyebrows he had were about to burn off. Sweat ran down his bare scalp and the rest of his body, but he had more pressing concerns to worry about. Despite the awful smell and billowing black smoke, he looked on, strangely determined to see this to the end. He coughed, and his eyes and nose ran from the contact with the smoke, but he just rubbed at them angrily and tried not to breathe too much of the toxic fumes in. Millions of thoughts raced through his head at that moment, interspersed and coloured with the rose-coloured goggles of nostalgia and the bittersweet tint of foresight.

What started it all? It had probably been the meeting with Kageyama. He had been fooling around with the ball in a field when Kageyama approached him. He'd made an offer, and it sure had looked good at the time. After that, Kageyama had told him to gather first-rate players, and Fudou had. Taking his resources and the current state of players with no or low levels of loyalty to any club or school into account, he felt that he'd done a pretty good job. He'd found two large hulking middle schoolers to act as the perfect central defenders and sweepers. Takanashi had joined immediately when he promised her the opportunity to play on equal terms with the boys. Hikara and Bie were nimble and quick, just the right type of people that understood his plays and turned his assists into goals. And, of course, the K.O.G. and Teikoku's ace striker, Sakuma. Though Sakuma had always been a bit insensitive to his intentions and kind of a one-trick pony.

That very Sakuma had laid bare the question that Fudou had refused to confront all along. If he hadn't dragged the others on the first step into addiction, would they be where they were now? The coagulating black mass that was his uniform bubbled and pulsed, cruelly reminding him of that very first time he had brought the cigarettes over. He had been so fucking cocky. And they had all eaten it up. They'd eaten Takan's drugs up, too, and he was pretty sure Maki was eating other things regularly to get what she wanted now. Briefly, he wondered what they'd looked like to Wada and Maki on that day after football. Because, to him, they had looked anything but happy.

Thinking about the drug scared the fuck out of him. He could still remember the ecstasy he got from it, the feeling of weightlessness and of having no worries and believing that everybody loved you. The feeling of Maki flashed back to him, and he tried to remember the bright colours and beautiful rhythms of that day. But he also thought of the alleyway, of hiding and skulking and coughing his guts out, of Hibiki and running from biker gangs and that dead guy in the alley.

And at that moment, he realised just what kind of bullet he had dodged. Takan was going to become one of those gang members one day, and push other scared little boys around just like he himself had been. Wada, he wasn't sure, because right now he was just a mess that was going deeper and deeper into a pathetic mixture of chaos and sorrow. Maki, he was bitterly convinced, was just going to become a whore in the next few years who sold herself for the stuff.

What would he have been?

Lost in his thoughts, Fudou stood and waited, until the last bits of the uniform became unrecognisable and turned into brittle shiny beads and ash.

¥

After the uniform was burned, he found a nearby bench and collapsed into it. His head was spinning and he felt lightheaded and exhausted. It had been a very tiring day and the smoke and fumes hadn't helped matters. He rested, sitting there until he was ready to move again.

Then he decided to go look for Hibiki.

He swung into Hibiki's ramen joint, expecting to find it empty, but instead met the eyes of Cap and Takanashi. There were two steaming large bowls of ramen on the counter in front of them. So they were having ramen forced down their throats too. Was it the miso flavour Hibiki was testing out?

"You look different," Cap said, breaking the silence. Fudou shrugged, and Hibiki emerged from the storeroom. Fudou was grateful for that, because it meant that he had an excuse to look away from Cap. Sakuma's accusations ran deep, and he wasn't sure if Cap was on his side. Shogo wasn't here, after all.

"Ah, Fudou," Hibiki said approvingly. Well, at least somebody wanted him here. "I was expecting you. Have some ramen."

Fudou nodded and took a seat at the counter, next to Cap. He avoided Takanashi's gaze. He had the feeling that she was staring at him with the greatest look of sympathy, and he couldn't stomach that right now.

Hibiki scooped up some ramen noodles and poured some some frothy soup over them with his great ladle. He slid the bowl over to Fudou along with a pair of chopsticks and a napkin.

"Enjoy. It's the Rai Rai Special."

Fudou thought of protesting about charity cases, but decided against it. The others were having ramen too, and honestly, he didn't care if people treated him as a charity case or not. Free stuff was free stuff.

"You look a bit rough. What happened to you?" Hibiki asked, stopping him from immediately diving into the food.

Fudou thought for a moment. He was in a pretty bad way, wasn't he? He ducked his head to the side, and caught the acrid smell of ash. His face must be grey with soot, except where the sweat had washed it off. He met Takanashi's eyes at that moment, and she had the most disgusting look of pity on her face. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. Fudou spun back around and rubbed at his face to clear the soot.

His fingers came back wet. And not just with sweat, either.

Fudou knew. His eyes were red and raw and that confirmed what he had been trying to ignore all this time. He had been crying.

He attacked his ramen, not at all happy by this revelation. Sakuma and Genda were just little shits who didn't know what the hell they had been on about. They shouldn't have been able to affect him this badly. Sure, Shogo and Cap and the others sticking up for him had been touching, but he'd expected them to do that. Seeing Cap and Takanashi here had been a surprise as well, but not a large one. He focused on these thoughts, repeating them over and over again until they were a mantra, drilled into his skull. If it had been them, he would have done the same. He would have done the same.

But deep inside, he knew that if it had been either of them being attacked, he wouldn't have come back.

¥

Fudou choked. He busied himself with eating the ramen, shovelling it so fast into his mouth that he ignored the searing heat of the soup and barely noticed the taste. It did fill him up, though, and the warmth in his stomach made him think of a time when home had been happier, so it was okay.

He ate moodily, focused wholly on the noodles and not at all on the people around him. He figured Cap, Takanashi, and Hibiki were talking, but he really, really, really didn't want to look at them or even hear what they were saying to make sure. He didn't want to talk to his friends, but at the same time, he didn't want them to leave. He was fucking pathetic. And what he hated most was that Sakuma and Genda, the people who deserved it the least, had been the ones to make him feel this way.

He took several more spoonfuls of the soup, shuddering as the MSG took its toll, and floated away. His head ached, but it was better than this confusion. At least he had something to focus on. The soup was also pretty damn good, at least, he was pretty sure that it was. It wasn't the Rai Rai Special for nothing, even if he hadn't paid the slightest attention to it at all.

He pushed the finished bowl back to Hibiki, who took it wordlessly. He looked around at the others in the shop, feeling so much like he was imposing on their content lives.

"Who won?" he asked grudgingly. To his relief, his voice didn't shake.

"Teikoku did," Takanashi answered quietly. "The coach subbed Sakuma off for a second team player. He would have done the same for Genda if we had a suitable replacement. He was really angry that they skipped out on half-time."

"Mikage Sennou ran out of energy?" Fudou asked, still detached. It was the MSG, definitely.

"That too. And Sakuma's substitute did very well. I think the coach is thinking of promoting him. His name is Ena."

Fudou made a vague noise of disinterest. Why'd she bother to tell him? It wasn't like he would ever watch another Teikoku match and remember him. Though he would be keeping an eye out for Shimozuru and Fujimaru from Mikage Sennou in the future.

"You okay, man?" Cap asked, nudging Fudou slightly. Fudou wanted to snort. Did he fucking look okay? He'd turned up at the ramen store snivelling like a brat, looking like his house had just burned down. He refused to look at him, for multiple reasons, and replied, "I've definitely been better."

"Shogo went home," Takanashi started, then trailed off. "Umm… I mean… his parents picked him up. That's why he's not here. He's at home."

"His parents are finally starting to pay more attention to him?" Fudou said, not bothering to mince words in front of his present company. "That's good. That's real good."

"His mum's really pretty, you know. She was really nice to us too." Takanashi continued to speak, but he tuned her out. He had the feeling that she was only saying things to fill the silence anyway.

Fudou rubbed at his face absentmindedly to clear more of the soot away. In fact, screw that. Hopping off the stool, he headed past the counter to the sink where Hibiki did the dishes. There, his back turned to the others, he washed his face, arms, and legs for good measure. Rubbing his swollen eyes with the cold water also soothed them, and he ran his cold wet fingers through his hair as well.

His fingers stopped on his tattoo. He traced it absentmindedly, thinking back to when he'd got it done and his exact reasons for it. Not that any of that mattered now. He was such a different person now that it was disgusting. Now, the tattoo didn't feel cool, or a statement, or even scary. It was just a stupid thing on his skin that itched occasionally. And gave people a bad impression of him. Why ruin something that was already difficult to obtain?

"Hibiki," he said, and was aware of Takanashi suddenly stopping, "I want to remove my tattoo."

"That's good," Hibiki replied. "You should. Now, think. What do you really want to say?"

Fudou quirked his brows, thrown off for a moment. He looked at the others (briefly) for a cue and found none. He turned back to face the sink, and his gaze fell on the posters decorating Hibiki's back wall. There were a couple on Hokkaido and Sapporo and whatnot talking about the different kinds of ramen, and there was also one on Raimon's football team. That made sense. He was their coach, after all.

The dulled noise in his mind started up again. He whipped his head towards Takanashi as he thought back to her words earlier, and then to the game. Then he looked back at the poster, his eyes growing wider and wider. The jigsaw puzzle pieces start to fly into place. The whirrs grew in volume and intensity until they practically roared in his ears. All of the things he'd experienced since Shin Teikoku slotted together to form a picture, one that he didn't like, but was finally beginning to see. It was shocking.

He could feel his knees starting to buckle, and put two hands on the sink to keep his balance. It was like he was having the mother of all revelations. He leaned forward and took a deep breath, making more of an effort than before to ignore Cap and Takanashi. When he was ready, he looked Hibiki square in the stupid old sunglasses that the man insisted on wearing indoors despite the lack of any bright light.

"You know what?" he said, his mouth curling up into a sneer that he didn't totally feel, but fuck it. "Fuck this shit. Fuck all of them. They can think what they want. I want to try out for Teikoku."


	18. Satellite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for battle.

Days later, he got a text from Cap.  _So u talking to me or what? Anyway were playing on Saturday same time n place. C u._

He stared at the text, then called Cap.

Cap answered sardonically. "Oh, finally talking to me now, are you?"

"I could say the same, dick," Fudou said. "I thought you were throwing a girly hissy fit." He paused as the silence of the house did not improve. Fudou had told his parents nothing of his revelation or resolution, and didn't intend to until something concrete came out of it. It sucked to admit it, but he didn't know them well enough to predict how they would react to any of the news he could give them now.

"You know what," he said into the receiver, catching Cap's intake of breath, "wanna hang out for a bit at your place?"

"I'm actually at Takanashi's," came the surprising reply. "Her dad makes really good fried noodles."

Fudou arrived at Takanashi's a short while later, and she let him in. "My dad's not in at the moment," she informed him while leading him to the kitchen. "He left some noodles behind though. Plates are there, and chopsticks are in that drawer. Help yourself." She pranced off, in the direction of the living room.

Cap and Takanashi were watching another movie, an anime this time containing big robots that looked exactly like the type of thing Shogo was into. It did seem pretty cool, since he'd walked in onto an aerial battle scene and the robots shot at each other with lasers and flew around space and used big robot-sized bazookas and all that fun stuff. And explosions. Lots of explosions.

"Hey, sucker," Cap greeted him from where he lay half-buried in cushions and pillows, his finished plate of noodles neatly placed in front of him on the coffee table. Takanashi rolled her eyes and settled in more comfortably on her chair. She gestured over at the empty couch opposite them. "Sit wherever."

They watched the movie silently for a while, and in his opinion it was just getting good when Takanashi suddenly sighed. "Guys, this sucks. Can we change the channel?"

"I dunno, Takanashi," Cap said, his eyes fixed on the screen. "This is actually pretty good. I'm digging the action scenes and the conflict between that guy and his ex-best friend or whatever."

"What conflict? They're hiding in their robots. You can't even see their faces!"

"But you can see it in their actions. Look, that swerve. He shot him in the leg, not in the cockpit or crucial engine areas. He didn't want to kill him."

"I like it too, the action scenes are pretty cool," Fudou put his two cents in. And the explosions. Always explosions.

"You think?" Takanashi said, before she suddenly sighed. "Fine, whatever." She stood up. "You guys enjoy yourselves down here and clean up after yourselves. I'm gonna go and do some stuff. Holler if you need me." She left the room, and Cap turned to Fudou, eyebrows raised. The message was clear.  _It's just a show._

¥

Fudou's interest diminished somewhat after the gut-wrenchingly awesome and explosive action scene concluded. It was a lull in intensity, one of those scenes to give you lots of info and a break, but a boring one nonetheless. He looked over at Cap, who was still enthralled, and stood up as well.

"Don't tell me you're leaving too," Cap said. "Just because there are no explosions now doesn't mean that it's not intense, you know."

"I'm just putting the dishes in the kitchen," Fudou answered. He didn't know what Cap was going on about, but he still felt pretty awkward with him, so he didn't question it.

When Fudou reentered the living room, Cap was in a sitting position. One arm rested at the elbow on the table and propped his head up at the palm. The other arm rested on his knee, with the elbow jutting out. He pivoted towards Fudou.

"Look, are that eyepatch guy's words still bothering you?"

"What?" Fudou said, rather intelligently.

"They shouldn't," Cap said. "He didn't know what the hell he was on about."

"I know," Fudou said. "He still doesn't. They didn't." He didn't say which 'they' he was referring to, but both of them knew which one he'd meant.

"Liar," Cap said, and the label hung in between them as if suspended on a thread. "That's why you've been avoiding me. You sissy. Pretty girly behaviour for someone who always calls other people girls."

"Hey, watch whose house you're in now," Fudou said half-seriously. But he went back on topic. He owed Cap that much, at least. "You've been friends with Takan for a while, right?"

"Takan was a really good friend of mine, in elementary school," Cap said, stressing the last two words. "People change. I can accept that. Sometimes, like with you, it's a good thing."

Fudou shrugged. "He did have a point, though. If I hadn't started the whole thing—"

"Fuck off," Cap said. "It's happened. There's no use worrying about it. Takan, I think he would have gone to it eventually. He's not a baby, you know. It's not like you were the only supplier around. He found the drugs all by himself, didn't he?" There was a rare venom in Cap's voice.

"It would have happened eventually," Cap repeated. "Why not let it happen now?"

Fudou shrugged again. Then he chuckled. "Hey, this show is about the main character fighting his ex-best friend, right?"

"He makes an alliance with a former enemy," Cap said, catching on immediately. "It's actually kind of funny."

¥

Mr. Takanashi appeared when the movie was nearing its end. "Oh, hello, boys," he said, surprised, and they turned to see him standing in the living room doorway. Takanashi came running down the stairs and hugged him, and Fudou looked away.

"Miki called," Takanashi said to her father. "She said that she found some better work somewhere else, so she's not coming over to stay anymore."

Mr. Takanashi laughed. "Well, I guess all that work was for nought, eh. Sorry, boys."

Fudou shrugged. "You paid us, so it wasn't really for nothing," he pointed out, and Cap nodded. Mr. Takanashi turned thoughtful at that moment, before finally shrugging.

"You're right. I won't get you to move it back so soon, though. Having an extra room here is a pretty good idea. Maybe you could invite your friends over for sleepovers, Shinobu-chan."

"Or even these guys," she said, jabbing her thumb at them. "Different room, so it's okay."

Mr. Takanashi nodded, appraising them both. "Yeah, why not?"

With the way both Takanashis were looking at him, Fudou was starting to feel like the conversation had been staged for his benefit. But before he could say anything, Mr. Takanashi changed the subject.

"Stay for dinner, boys?"

¥

"Fudou Akio, next time you go out for dinner, tell me at least 8 hours in advance, or don't go out at all! I spend a lot of time buying ingredients and cooking, you know. It's very selfish of you to just stay out and make your father and me finish all the extra food we cooked for you. And can you imagine how much of a waste that was when there are orphans and poor people out there who would want the food?"

Fudou shrugged wearily in the face of his mother's tirade. Had she not heard of a refrigerator? There was no reason for them to finish it.

"Good thing for you your father's sleeping now, because he would have so many words for you. I thought you would have been improving, since you've been bringing back more money and you smell less of cigarette smoke and alcohol." Fudou actually snorted at that one. It was really all in the mind, because she hadn't said a thing when he had really been immersed in that lifestyle.

"What's with that attitude? Don't you make that face at me, Akio. Don't forget who pays the bills around here and who you have to listen to. It's still our house, and while you're here, you have to follow the rules."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, mum," he said, moving past her to go upstairs to his room. But she blocked him, seemingly angrier than before.

"You know, I really thought you were changing, but it seems like you're just as bad. You're still avoiding us and when you're at home you spend all your time in that godforsaken room of yours. Clean it up, by the way! It's a mess. Why don't you sit in the living room and talk to us more? We're your parents, you know. We'd love to talk to you." The ugly tone of sarcasm entered her voice, and Fudou found himself wondering: had his mother always been this crazy? Or was the transition complete? What had been the father's was now passed to the son. The circle of life.

"I'm busy, that's all," he said, and tried to pass her again, but she scooted closer to him.

"Sending messages to your friends on your phone? What could you possibly be busy with in your room? You don't even have a computer! And I know that you're not reading the books in your room, so don't even think of feeding me that. Why don't you want to talk to us anymore? Are we too boring for you? Not as exciting as smoking and drinking and biker gangs? I guess family counts for nothing, huh?" She backed off and folded her arms, probably for effect, but he took the opportunity to rip past her and sprint up to his room. That had been way too much emotion for the day, and now he needed to sort his mind out.

In his room, he began to cast around for what he would need, while his mother continued her tirade from outside the door. (She was right about one thing at least. It really was a mess.) He grabbed a duffel bag from the corner and began to throw things into it. Clothes, mostly. He wasn't a very materialistic type of guy after all. He would bring his ball, but he wasn't going on a soul-searching journey and he was pretty sure he could just borrow Cap's or Takanashi's. Eventually, with a half-empty duffel bag, he opened the door to see his mother still standing there. Her eyes widened when she saw his bag, and she made a weak attempt to grab him that he easily dodged. A trip to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, and then downstairs. He was just putting his shoes on when his parents ran down.

"What is the meaning of this, Akio?" his father asked, wearily. "If you think you're being a burden on us, stop. You're our son, and we'll still take care of you, no matter what." His mother nodded emphatically from behind him, but they didn't sway his intentions.

"Don't worry about me. You look tired, go back to sleep. I'm going out for a while. I'll be back when I feel like it."

His father took a step forward and grabbed his arm. This was so uncharacteristic of his mild-mannered father that Fudou was genuinely unprepared, and when it happened, he took in a sharp breath.

"This is ridiculous, Akio. Go back to your room and unpack your bag. We'll talk it over tomorrow."

Fudou struggled, but his father's grip held true, and eventually he relented. And even took a step inside the house for good measure. His father relaxed, and when he let go, Fudou shot off in the opposite direction. He ran as quickly as he could, ignoring the shrieks of his mother and focusing only on outrunning his father. All the running and hard labour Fudou had done in the weeks since Shin Teikoku finally paid off. After 10 solid minutes of running, he finally slowed, and looked around.

He'd done it. His father was nowhere in sight.

Now, just to get to his destination.

¥

The route was past familiar by now, but that didn't stop him from being slightly nervous as he raised one finger to press the doorbell. He waited, deliberating with himself on whether he should actually be there until the door opened. He gave Mr. Takanashi a crooked smile, and indicated his bag.

"Hi," he said. "Sorry it's a bit short notice, but I'd like to take you up on your offer. Sorry I didn't bring Cap."

Mr. Takanashi stared at him for a moment, and Fudou coughed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Then Mr. Takanashi smiled.

"Come in," he said, letting him in. "Sit here," he indicated the living room. "I've got to tidy the attic up a bit."

Suddenly, Fudou thought that this was a very bad idea. He made to leave, but Mr. Takanashi put out a hand to stop him. It was warm, and strong, and reassuring.

"We'd love for you to stay the night," Mr. Takanashi said. "I've just got to go get the duvet and things ready, so wait here for a bit. Turn on the TV if you like, or feel free to take a look at anything. Shinobu-chan should be down in a bit if she's not sleeping already." Fudou mentally snorted. It was 10 o'clock. As if anyone over the age of 6 would be sleeping at this hour.

When Mr. Takanashi returned, Fudou jumped to his feet. "It's ready now," Mr. Takanashi said, nodding at him. Fudou followed him downstairs, and stopped when he saw the room that had practically been his first proper introduction to the Takanashi house.

Mr. Takanashi chuckled. "Yeah, we remodelled it a bit, didn't we?"

It was no longer the dusty makeshift thing Fudou remembered. The floor and corners were clear of dust and a nice tatami mat lay on the ground, with a pillow and a neatly folded duvet placed on top. They had even gone as far as to paint the walls bright colours to match the rest of the house. It was such a welcome change from the bland colours of the Fudou household. Better still, Mr. Takanashi had moved some other pieces of furniture down, including a dresser, a small stool, and a desk.

"My sister sent some of this stuff," Mr. Takanashi explained with a smile. "My niece was going to stay here for a bit, so she decided to help out. It's free for you to use, though. It's part of this room now." That suited Fudou just fine, and he smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Takanashi. I really can't thank you enough."

Mr. Takanashi smiled back. "It's always a pleasure having you over. I'll leave you alone, then. If you're tired, sleep. Make yourself comfortable. If you need me, I'll be up in the living room or my study until around midnight."

Fudou stayed sitting on the tatami mat for a while after Mr. Takanashi excused himself. Part of him couldn't believe that he'd left home, with nothing but a tiny bag of clothes, and that he was here now. Here, in a clean, safe room that he helped build, instead of some den or motel or even in the streets. He thought of the alleyways again, and a shiver rippled through his body. He would probably never be fully over that.

He grabbed his bag and looked for something clean and comfortable to change into, and put the bag into a corner. Fudou took his coat off and hung it at the back of the door, where there were four hooks. Four very cute hooks. The ducks had probably been the younger Takanashi's input into the design.

Wait…

Now that he was taking a closer look at everything, he could see ducks everywhere. Did Takanashi's cousin really like ducks or something? Or was it just the father-daughter duo? There were duck ornaments on the dresser. A duck pencil board on the desk. Even some parts of the wall were the chrome yellow reminiscent of rubber ducks (and also a certain furniture-retailing mega-corporation). At least the pillowcase wasn't in a duck pattern, though he was sure that this was only because there weren't any such pillowcases in the house. It was still yellow to match the room, though. The Takanashi interior decorating style was unique indeed.

¥

Fudou emerged from the attic half an hour later to find Takanashi and her father lounging around in the living room. They were both munching on some amazingly tasty-looking duck biscuits, complete with yellow food colouring. Fudou had to shake his head at the Takanashi duck obsession.

"Ah, Fudou," Takanashi greeted him with a wave. She was wearing a baggy T-shirt (no, it didn't have a duck on it—that would have been too much, even for the Takanashis) and shorts, and her hair was down. He could actually see both her eyes clearly for once. He felt like he was looking at a faded version of her, and frankly it felt strange and like something he wasn't meant to see. "Dad and I made some cookies. You want some?"

"They're pretty good, if I can say so myself," Mr. Takanashi said in a highly conspiratorial tone. He beckoned Fudou closer, and said with a half-smirk, "The secret was probably in the buttermilk. And the ducks are cute too. Shinobu-chan really loves ducks." Well, that was one mystery solved at least.

Fudou smiled despite himself. "Sure. I'd love to try some. They in the fridge?"

Takanashi sprang up from her seat and walked with him to the kitchen. There, she found a plate and got him some duck cookies. Bemused, Fudou took one up between his thumb and index finger and bit into it. He chewed carefully, letting the sweet, creamy flavours wash over his tongue. Since his mother prided health food, he had never really gone for desserts and sweet things, but this was… good.

He told Mr. Takanashi as much when they reentered the living room. They lay on the couches for a while more, enjoying each other's company in silence. Fudou marvelled that even in such a lively house, there was room for silence, while in his own house it was just the same old noise day after day. His mother would be uncomfortable with quiet and would chatter to fill it up.

"What's eating you, Fudou?" Mr. Takanashi asked.

Fudou made an effort to relax his jaw and eyebrows and get rid of his grimace. "Nothing much," he lied, giving Mr. Takanashi a quick, sharp smile that probably looked more pained than anything. Then he turned back to the biscuits, and tried to ignore their glances.

¥

"Rise and shine!" a voice sang and Fudou suddenly felt the warmth of the blanket being whisked away. The aroma of sweet fried egg filled the air and he opened his eyes.

Mr. Takanashi stood there with a plate of steaming hot sweet egg in his left hand and the corner of his blanket in his right. Setting the plate on his desk, he walked round to Fudou's side of the bed and gave him a prod in the shoulder. "It's ten past eight. Shinobu-chan's gone off to school already, and I don't know what you might be up to today, but I figure it's a healthy time to get up. Even for you teenagers." He gave a dramatic shrug, and through the bleariness Fudou swore he saw him roll his eyes. "Take a shower if you need to, and if that isn't enough food you can help me cook more."

It wasn't, and he was soon flipping burgers with the older man in the kitchen. For some reason, he felt extremely hungry, and destroyed a significant portion of the beef patties, but Mr. Takanashi didn't seem to mind. If anything, he was even encouraging.

The phone rang, and Mr. Takanashi waved at the pan to tell him to take care of the patties for the time being. When he returned, he had a grin on his face.

"That was Hibiki. He was looking for you. He's got some news for you, so head down to the ramen shop today whenever you're ready. It's pretty urgent."

¥

"I spoke with Teikoku," Hibiki said, ladelling frothy pork bone soup into Fudou's bowl of ramen noodles. It was good to have friends who gave out free food. "They want proof of your abilities before proceeding any further. Because they're not sure if your abilities were the influence of the meteorite or not. The firsts are going to play the seconds in an exhibition game in a couple of weeks, and I've managed to get you on as the playmaker of the second team."

"Yes," he said, as a million ideas instantly went through his mind. "That's really good. Thanks, Hibiki."

"I got you a list of the players as well," Hibiki said, handing him a sheet of paper. "It's just names and stats, but it's still useful information."

He took the list and studied the numbers. They were all right, decent but not the calibre that he expected to find in the elite Teikoku first squad. With (admittedly slightly misplaced) pride, he noted that Gouin and Hikara were among the better performers on the team.

"Hmm." He tapped the right midfield position on the sheet and looked up at Hibiki.

"Can I ask you for another favour?"


	19. Interlude III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fudou's request is revealed, some people are made very happy, and the date of the Teikoku match approaches.

Takanashi leaned over towards him from her spot on the sofa, and the way she was angled made her look like a cat. "Daddy told me that Hibiki-san had news for you," she said. "What was it?"

He gave her a grin. After the implications of the news had sunk in, he had been unable to believe his luck, already looking forward to the future. For the first time in a long time, things were going right. Because, let's face it, Fudou was confident in his abilities as a football player. All he had to do was demonstrate his abilities. He didn't even need to win.

He said as much to Takanashi when she pointed out that he would be playing with the second team, not the first.

"To be able to get on the second team for Teikoku is still no mean feat," he replied. "It's not like they will be complete beginners. They'll know how to cut, run, shoot, keep. I couldn't ask for more. It's great that Teikoku gave me that team already."

"Hmm," Takanashi said, still unconvinced. Then she brightened up. "You'll be playing with Gouin and Hikara, right? That's great. It'll be like some kind of Shin Teikoku reunion."

Fudou didn't miss the wistful tone she was trying to hide.

"It gets better," he told her, and relished the expression on her face when he dropped the zinger.

"I asked Hibiki if I could make some changes to the team, and he said that I could. No one's ever thought of doing it, but Hibiki doesn't think that Teikoku would have any problems with it. I asked for the right midfielder to be switched… for you."

Takanashi's eyes opened impossibly wide, and then her mouth followed suit. They returned to normal so quickly that if he hadn't been keeping an eye out, he would have missed the change completely. Her fists clenched and unclenched before a wide grin spread across her face. "Are you serious?" she said, but her grin told him that she wasn't serious about the question at all. "Oh my God. Oh, my God. It'll be so cool! I'd love to play with you and the guys! Especially you, me, Hikara. It'll be the return of the Shin Teikoku midfield!"

"Yes," Fudou agreed, his smile toned down now but still as smug. "We have the benefit of teamwork in addition to our individual skills. And me, of course," he added and dodged Takanashi's half-hearted swing. "It'll be fucking amazing. We'll attack the first team where they're weakest."

"The playmaker," Takanashi said, and her eyebrows shot up high before her smile turned devious. "I'm so tempted to look at the notes we have on the players now. But as a player about to go against the first team, that would be morally wrong."

"Oh, you and your morals," Fudou said. "Where can we find them?"

¥

They did not go to find the files that would give Fudou so much dirt on the first team players (damn Takanashi and her morals). Instead, they went out to the park to play with a hastily-assembled Cap and Shogo. When they told them the news, a grin sprouted on Shogo's face, while Cap merely smiled, clasped Fudou's hand in a brief shake, and gave him his congratulations.

"I told you," he said. "Told you you were good enough to try out for the top schools."

"Yeah, yeah." Fudou grew serious for a moment. "Really, though, I probably couldn't have done it without you guys."

"You can thank us by teaching us some skills," Cap said. "Like the Cruijff Turn. Why not start out with that?"

Fudou's sombre expression quickly broke, and he gave him the finger. "Fuck off! Who do you think I am? If you want, though, we can do some attacking plays and switch so we both get to practise attack and defence."

Cap nodded and cracked a rare smile. "Sounds great."

They played for hours, alternating teams with each other. In that way, Fudou got to refamiliarise himself with Takanashi's movements and abilities, get some football knowledge through Cap's (gradually opening) thick skull, and teach Shogo even more useful tips and tricks. He had to say that Shogo was a quick learner, and—dare he say it?—that he was glad that he'd discovered Shogo (read: Shogo had rediscovered him) before Cap had had enough time to completely ruin his form. That kid would never become a top-class defender, but he was fast and sneaky and he could see him as a stealer one day.

"Want to go for ice cream?" Fudou asked everyone after they decided to call it a day. Cap shrugged, and Takanashi rolled her eyes. "You realise I've got to follow you now that you're staying with me, right?" she said. "Though it should really be the other way around."

"I know you want the ice cream, so don't use me as an excuse," he said. "I do appreciate it, though." He kept his mouth shut after that, merely shrugging at Cap and Shogo when they gave him questioning looks.

"What about you, Shogo?" Takanashi asked, when the silence became too thick.

"I can come," he said. "I've got to borrow a phone later from one of you guys to call my parents when I'm done, though. They're gonna pick me up when I'm ready. It's true."

"Oh yeah, Shogo," Cap said as they started walking. "You're spending more time at home now, right? Your brother no longer as busy or something?"

"Yeah," Shogo said. "He just finished his exams for the term. He's just waiting for his grades now, but I think he'll do really well. He's a genius, you know! It's true! My dad always says that he'll follow in his footsteps one day."

"What about you then, Shogo?" Fudou asked abruptly. "What do your parents say about you?"

Takanashi started to protest, but he cut her off with a sharp pinch. He was interested in Shogo's answer way more than he thought he would have been. When he turned, Shogo was open-mouthed. It was one of the few times Fudou had seen him having nothing to say.

Takanashi kicked him, a bit harder than he thought he deserved, in the shin. (Okay, maybe he did deserve it, since he hadn't actually had to pinch her.) "Dick," she muttered into his right ear.

"They don't really say much, actually…" Shogo kicked at some pebbles, knocking them off the kerb and onto the road. "I haven't really done that much for them to talk about. But I will, and they will, soon. You gotta help me with that, guys." He looked up at them with an obviously forced grin. Fudou gave an equally forced one back and ruffled his hair.

"You got that damn right, kid." But even though his grin had been forced, his sentiment rang true. Shogo's wavering grin eased into a real smile, and then into a laugh.

¥

He received a text each from Gouin and Hikara that evening.  _Hey,_  Gouin's text read,  _heard ur playing w/ us against the 1st team? Good 2 hear._  Hikara's message said pretty much the same thing in much thicker chatspeak that he had to struggle to read. For f… he wasn't tech-savvy. He didn't have a computer, and his phone was a thing of the 90s. Okay, maybe early 2000s. Still, Fudou typed back a reply towards each of them and resolved to ignore any further messages. He'd ask Takanashi to arrange something.

"The game's set to be next-next Wednesday," she told him later over dinner. He'd helped them with preparing it, since he still felt bad for taking up their space, food and money. "They approved me to play. Thanks for putting my name up, I really appreciate it!"

"It's going to be great," he said, catching Mr. Takanashi's eye. The older man smiled at him as well, and Fudou suddenly thought of the conversation they'd had a while back. Funny how things worked out, really. At least he didn't feel like he was living off their charity as much now.

¥

He popped into Hibiki's to hang out for a bit after a job. "Do you have any advice for me on the game?"

"No." Hibiki was towelling his dishes dry one by one, something that looked needlessly arduous to him (that was what dish racks were for, surely?) but he didn't comment. "I'm impressed that you thought to bring Takanashi in. It was a good move, especially since you'll have three former teammates on the team now."

His tone was clipped, and Fudou had the feeling that Hibiki was displeased for some reason, though for what he had no idea.

"The miso ramen is getting much better," he offered. "I think you can put it out to sell soon. People are going to love it."

"Yes, I think it's almost ready too," Hibiki said, and there it was again. There was just something about his tone that he was sure was meant to clue him into the fact that he was missing something big. "It just needs a bit more of a grounded flavour. The flavour's deviated too much from the original intention. I have to go back to its roots and figure how out to balance them out."

Fudou shrugged. "Well, you're the ramen expert, not me," he said. "I'm sure you'll do it just fine. I mean, everyone loves your ramen."

Hibiki chuckled. "I would have thought that you're here enough to see just how many customers I get. No, there's something off about the base." He must have seen his expression, because he then laughed. "Don't you worry. This shop is more of an old man's hobby for me anyway. Some more work is just needed."

"I always thought that you needed more customers," Fudou said, as if that would help.

¥

Fudou finally met his team on the Saturday before the match. He was given a hero's welcome by Gouin and Hikara, the taller one hoisting him up into a bear hug and the smaller one running up to him and jumping on him. After the reunion, Hikara introduced him to the second team in glowing terms ("This is our old captain from Shin Teikoku, the guy who pretty much saved our lives. We were stuck on a submarine about to explode and he showed us the way out. We got out right when the bombs started to go off. It was insane!") and Fudou could see the starry-eyed gazes developing in his new teammates. Well, at least they didn't seem to hate him for having worked with Kageyama and/or corrupting Genda and Sakuma. Or so the two had claimed, he told himself firmly. Because Shogo was right. All he had done was pull the darkness out from within them.

Takanashi emerged in her uniform and Fudou waved her over. Without preamble, he suggested, "So, let's practise, then? I trust we all want to beat the first team, don't we?"

The team accepted his leadership instantly. There were Ena (yes,  _that_  Ena) and Ookusu, the forward duo. They were both small and quick and he told them that if they wanted to evade the 5-strong first team defence, they would have to abuse their speed to the max. "Outrun Narukami, and you should be fine. Pass to each other."

To his pleasure, Fudou found that the Shin Teikoku midfield had not degraded at all. In fact, Hikara (now back in his old position of left attacking midfield) had improved in leaps and bounds and he and Takanashi both had to struggle to keep up occasionally. The team was responsive on the whole, and though there were a few snags in teamwork and movement, he was confident that they would make a good impression in the game. He taught them a few moves, and, together with the help of Takanashi, Gouin, and Hikara, went over a few of Shin Teikoku's plays. Of course, there was the risk that Sakuma and Genda would have gone over them too, so he made note to think of some of his own.

Finally, there was the second team's own 5-man defence, made up of Numata and Yuasa closest to Hyoudou, the goalie, and Kawakami, Shibuki, and Gouin stationed slightly further forward. A good healthy balance of big guys and quick runners. He saw no room for change here but one. He'd thought of what angle of attack to take during the game against the firsts and quickly concluded that it was obvious. With an almost childish glee, he moved Gouin back to the left centreback spot, and explained to him his specific role in stopping the first team's attack. The rest of the defence would collapse in on the right when needed.

" _You'll_  also need to keep at eye on Doumen as well," Fudou told Hikara, who nodded eagerly. The team was all fired up and raring to go.

¥

The day of the game arrived soon enough. Fudou had thought of several more strategies in between jobs and at nights at Takanashi's, and as the team changed in the dressing room, he outlined the plan to Teikoku's assistant coach.

The assistant coach nodded. "It's a good plan," he said. "The first team is in need of a challenge. It'll be good for you to shock some sense into them." He seemed cautiously approving. Fudou tried not to feel too smug.

"Are you sure about keeping to the same formation, though?" the assistant coach continued. "There are many other ways to get the better of our 5-3-2."

"Yes," Fudou replied. "It's a matter of pride. I want to show that in a fair match, we can outplay them. We can. Is there a problem with that?"

Before they went out to line up, the assistant coach took Fudou aside and clapped him on the shoulders.

"I've watched you play, and I acknowledge your abilities," he said quietly. "There are a few, both in the first team and in management, who do not. Show them your true skills, because I really want you on the team."

Fudou stretched his back muscles, testing out the way the Teikoku uniform felt on his body, and grinned at him. "Thanks for the confidence." He caught everyone's eye and returned their equally eager grins. "We'll give you a show that you won't forget."


	20. 「F」

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the show you've all been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to remind you guys, here is the current Teikoku second team lineup (strikers first, ending with goalie):
> 
> Ookusu - Ena
> 
> Hikara - Fudou (C) - Takanashi
> 
> Gouin - Shibuki - Kawakami
> 
> Yuasa - Numata
> 
> Hyoudou
> 
> And here's the first team lineup (reversed order from goalie to strikers, so it's easier to see who's marking who):
> 
> Genda
> 
> Banjou ("big lips guy") - Oono (Big Den)
> 
> Gojou - Henmi - Narukami
> 
> Doumen - Sasaki - Sakiyama
> 
> Sakuma - Jimon (C)
> 
> (Apologies for the nasty formatting. I thought it would make it easier to understand! If it's still confusing, it might help to draw it out on a piece of paper. I'm sorry!)
> 
>  
> 
> (PS. If you look up some of the second team on pixiv or whatever, you'll find that some eg. Ookusu are surprising cuties!)

Even from inside the tunnel, Fudou could hear the roar of the anticipating audience. Cap and Shogo were probably among them, and maybe even old Hibiki, if he was lucky. He had been sceptical and disbelieving before, even when watching Teikoku's friendly against Mikage Sennou, but it finally hit him just how big Teikoku's fanbase was. And how momentous his task was, how incredible his accomplishment would be if he landed the playmaker spot in the Teikoku first team. A large audience would watch the attacks he would create, and that would only just be the beginning.

He allowed himself to dream for a few more moments before shaking himself back into reality. He led his team out of the dressing room (Takanashi joined them outside, tapping her foot testily) and into the tunnel, where he smoothly ignored Genda's disapproving gaze down on him, and the spitting fire in Sakuma's eyes. Instead, he took his position next to the current captain of the first team, Jimon Daiki. (See, he'd read up on his stuff even without Takanashi's manager notes. Cap's old magazines had come in handy!)

Jimon had extremely strong shots, shots that even Genda and Raimon's Endou Mamoru couldn't stop without using  _hissatsu_  techniques. Fudou had talked with the team about him, and eventually, they'd decided that the only thing they could do was to double, or even triple mark him just to prevent him from even touching the ball. It would be up to the game to see how well it would work.

They walked out onto the pitch and lined up opposite each other, and he shook Jimon's hand (the latter extended it with a considerable show of reluctance). "Let's have a good game," he said, smirking.

The referee walked over to them.

"All right, boys, you know how it goes. Heads or tails?"

"Tails," Fudou answered immediately, wanting to dictate the pace of the game from the onset. Jimon eyed him warily at that point, but shrugged and tipped his head.

The referee flipped the coin high in the air and slapped it down onto the top of his hand. Slowly, he revealed the upwards-facing side. Fudou's heart skipped a beat.

It was tails.

"We'll shoot in that direction." He beat the ref to it, pointing in the direction that went towards the glare of the sun. The sun was bright in the sky, and shining strong in Teikoku's defence. Anybody attacking in that direction would get a nice eyeful of sunshine. From the corner of his eye, Fudou could see Jimon just shrugging. Maybe he thought that Fudou was just an overhyped shit player. Or maybe he thought that he was crazy. Both of these opinions suited Fudou and his team just fine.

Right before they were due to get into their starting positions, he spoke to his team.

"Ena, Hikara, Takanashi, it's all up to you. Gouin, don't forget your job. Numata, Shibuki, Kawakami, triple mark Jimon immediately once things start swinging his way. Yuasa, cover any stray first-team forwards and only shift over to mark Jimon if he breaks through. Takanashi and I will cover the midfield. Hikara, I'm giving you a big job dealing with both Doumen and the attack. Don't let me down. Hyoudou, good luck with guarding the goal. Just try your best and don't be afraid to shout for help if you'll need it. Ookusu, use that spirit of yours to keep us up, and tire the fuck out of Gojou and Banjou, and Henmi too if he wants to chase you. Got it?"

His team looked at him, taking his instructions into heart, a burning desire to win in their eyes. They put their hands together and shouted for the hell of it. He had never felt like such hot shit before, and committed the feeling to memory. He was the shit, after all. He was Fudou Akio. The best playmaker out there today. And he was going to lead the second team to victory.

¥

The game began, and Sakuma kicked the ball off to Jimon. Immediately, Fudou pounced. The next ball was going to go to Sasaki the playmaker, he knew, and even though he didn't manage to intercept the pass, he damn well scared the first team with his ferocity. Takanashi and Hikara spread to the sides, and Ena and Ookusu ran just a bit ahead, making sure not to stray too far up so they could provide support.

Fudou stuck on Sasaki's heels, and hoped that behind him his defenders were collapsing in on Jimon. He could hear Hyoudou shouting something in the distance—"Come back! Back! Defence!"—and focused on trapping Sasaki's feet. As he thought, the first team playmaker was technically good. No matter how intensely Fudou hustled, Sasaki wasn't letting the ball away from his grasp. But with Hikara on Doumen, Gouin on Sakuma, Takanashi on Sakiyama, the three defenders on Jimon, and Ena and Ookusu providing support, he had nowhere to pass except for behind.

The first team milled about as their defence passed the ball between themselves. Ena and Ookusu ran up to the players with the ball and hustled, while Fudou, Hikara and Takanashi covered the midfield between them and made sure it was accounted for. And long shots to the first-team forwards were out of the question as the five-man second-team defence followed them tightly.

Suddenly, Doumen broke free of Hikara and shouted from somewhere behind Fudou, to his left. The defender holding the ball didn't hesitate to send the ball up, up, and long. All the way across the pitch, aimed at Doumen. Fudou snorted, and advanced up the field, though only slightly. He had a good idea of what was going to happen next, but he didn't want to leave the team hanging if his judgement was wrong.

True enough, Gouin dropped Sakuma and ran up to challenge Doumen. And although the first-year could jump high, Gouin had the natural advantage of height.

There was no contest. After seeing Gouin secure the ball, Fudou ran up to attack, trusting his teammates to get the ball up to them. And eventually, the ball was passed to Takanashi.

She carried the ball up and they ran up the field together, both trying to outrun their respective marks. The announcer seemed to be shouting something about sun glare and how they were doing so well despite that. Was he blind? With the exception of Ookusu, they all had their hair in the way shielding their eyes or hanging in bushy clumps above. And Hikara was wearing a mask to boot. With their built-in sunhats, they were practically immune to the glare. Of course, he had taken that into account when choosing sides.

The first team defenders came down to meet them, Narukami coming in with a tackle. As if anyone couldn't see that coming and counter it from a mile away. Takanashi daintily sent the ball in to Fudou with a flick before running off to the side to dodge the first-team player's follow-through.

Fudou could hear his mark coming up from behind him, and the centre-back, Henmi, was running down the field to confront him. An intensely haughty expression was on his face, like he thought Fudou was no better than the dirt beneath his fingernails. Well, he would show him. Quickly, he passed the ball to Hikara on the left, dodging past Henmi and receiving it back in a neat one-two. He drifted off to the side, aware of the defender up top with the big lips and Gojou on the side closing in on him, and temporarily switched places with Hikara.

Hikara broke past Henmi again, and he sent the ball his way. Then the ball went to Takanashi, and then Ena in two quick moves. Fudou switched places again with Hikara, reaching the centre of the pitch just in time to receive the ball from Ena on the right. In the meantime, Ookusu had cut past Gojou and the big lips guy towards the left edge of the field, and without hesitation, Fudou sent the ball streaking through to the wing towards him. Ena ran up to the middle, closer to the goal, Ookusu sent it up, and Ena shot.

Fudou started running back, having made the sign. The midfield retreated, narrowly missing the shock waves from the big defender's ("They call him 'Big Den' cos his first name's Densuke, you know, it's kind of silly, really," Takanashi had said) Earthquake technique. Ookusu and Ena followed suit after picking themselves up and prepared for defence. To their credit, they were heaving only slightly. That had been an intensive offence and it had shocked the first team, but to go forward with the plan, they would need to pull that out of their asses for the next 40 minutes.

¥

Henmi brought the ball down more carefully this time, looking to pass to Sasaki (but of course). There was no way in hell Fudou would let him, though he didn't make that obvious. Instead, while following his mark up the field, he momentarily slowed. As he predicted, Henmi saw what he wanted to see, and sent the ball flying towards Sasaki. But Fudou dug his heels into the ground and kept moving. With one smooth gesture, he squared up next to Sasaki, easing him out of his spot and claiming the ball instead. He couldn't resist a parting smirk at Henmi as he passed the ball to Hikara. That would teach him to be an arrogant douche.

But he couldn't relish his victory for too long. He ran up, got the ball from Ookusu, and passed it back, only to see it stolen from him at the next moment by a well-executed (he had to admit) Cyclone technique courtesy of the Big Lips defender (Banjou? Well, whatever). The first team had the ball again, and Fudou and the others doubled back on defence. Once again, Henmi brought the ball up, but, probably not willing to chance Fudou again, he passed it to his left, to Narukami. Fudou would judge him for wearing headphones on the pitch, but then again, he had seen stranger in other teams. One of the nearby schools had a player who actually wore lit candles on his head, after all.

Takanashi ran to take Narukami, which was probably a bad move in hindsight, but it was too late now. Fudou jogged back to cover Sasaki again, but he could see Sakiyama running up to get the ball. Takanashi tried her best, but Narukami zipped past her with an Illusion Ball and continued up the field.

"Shibuki!" Fudou yelled out an order, and ran to intercept Sakiyama. Takanashi had warned him that he was a rough player, but Fudou felt more than ready for his tricks. He was almost tempted to give him a Killer Slide and steal the ball off him, but had to remind himself to bide his time. Instead, he ran up to him, intent on making him pass the ball. Jimon should be occupied by Numata and Kawakami, and Shibuki should be covering Sasaki in his stead. He expected a mistake to happen.

Instead, Sakiyama kicked the ball at his chest. Fuck.

Fudou recognised the beginning of the move, but it was too late. In one fell swoop, Sakiyama rushed at him with a flying kick, making contact only with the ball but sending him flying into his defence. Fudou lay on the pitch, winded for a moment, before forcing his arms to push himself back up. No foul had been called, and as Fudou ran back into the fray, the ball flew from Sasaki to Jimon. Like hell!

He jumped up, intent on heading the ball out of the way. Unfortunately, he accidentally collided into Jimon's shoulder, and managed to knock him aside. The referee's whistle came, as expected, and he backed off. That had been his fault.

The seconds regrouped, with the three on Jimon now guarding the goal. Two more were on Sakuma, and the midfielders dropped down to defence while keeping an eye on their marks. Sakuma made a cut towards the right, managing to break free, and Jimon passed to him, and the defence immediately closed in… staying on Jimon, like Fudou had told them to. With Fudou on Sasaki and Gouin and Hikara on Doumen, Sakuma had no choice but to shoot. He tried to run further to the right to get a better view of the goal on his strong side, but Yuasa blocked his way—with a smirk, that sneaky douche.

 _That'll teach you to limit your range_ , Fudou thought, just as Sakuma shot with his left foot. He needn't have worried at all because the resulting shot was feeble. Hyoudou caught it easily.

¥

And so the waves of attack and defence went throughout the first half. Somehow, the second-team defence would strangle the first team until they got the ball from their grasp. They would advance, passing between each other as much as possible and trying to stave off the inevitable moment when one of the first-team defenders used their  _hissatsu_  technique to steal the ball. Or, if they were lucky enough to reach the goal, they would shoot it as hard as they could and Genda would stop the ball with his famous Full Power Shield or Drill Smasher. Then it would be back on defence, rinse, and repeat.

It was almost Mikage Sennou's attrition strategy, but backed up with additional skill. The first team wised up to their plan at around the 15th minute, but there was no counter to this. The only option they really had was to run with them until they tired, and Fudou knew they knew it.

But this tactic was a double-edged sword. Fudou's break from football hadn't done him any favours. He was getting tired, his turns became slower and his mohawk started sticking to his forehead, and only his determination to prove himself and give Sakuma and Genda what they deserved kept him going on. Takanashi was tiring too, not used to the pace of football after her 3-month break, and the first team started to attack their side of the field.

 _Just 10 or 15 more minutes of this shit_ , he thought to himself as he vehemently kicked the ball to Hikara. 10 to 15 minutes before the actual show could start. He just had to fight past the pain and reach that high. Finding another burst of energy within himself, he sped past Sasaki and received the ball back from Hikara. Predictably, Henmi and Gojou closed down on him, and he passed up to Takanashi. It was both the best and worst thing that he could have done.

Sakiyama had anticipated this and completely floored her with a Killer Slide. His spikes met skin, and the whistle blew, but Fudou almost missed that as a white-hot burst of anger flared through his mind. That sliding tackle had been completely uncalled for, and Sakiyama could have done something much less dangerous to get the ball. What did he want to do, break her leg? He started towards him, but tiny hands pulled him back.

"We got the foul," Hikara urged him. "She's tough, she's fine. Let's get back to it."

"Hurry up, Captain!" Ookusu screamed at him from further upfield. "Get into position! Don't forget what you told us! Come on!"

He jolted, the moment passed, and he turned away. The ire still ran through his veins, powering him up. Seemed like Sakiyama's move had backfired, because Fudou was back and ready to give it his all for the rest of the first half. "My bad." He clapped Hikara on the back. "Got carried away."

Ena made a good run, and Takanashi passed the ball to him, then got it back again. She passed to Fudou, and he to Hikara, sneaking a glance at the clock in the meantime. Five minutes until half-time.

When the whistle blew, he sagged down onto the ground. It was too early to be feeling that burst of triumph unfurling from his heart. He tried to suppress it, but it wasn't easy. Takanashi pulled him back up to his feet and they exchanged glances. Her eyes were shining viciously and he knew that his were doing the same. The hardest bit was over.

¥

He must have chugged from his water bottle in the dressing room for nearly a minute before finally stopping.

"We did it," Kawakami said. "It worked exactly as you said. They're getting tired and most of them have used their  _hissatsu_  techniques a few times. Now we just have to make the most of our second half."

"Yes. So we really need to recharge. How're you feeling?" he asked his team, who were all watching him with varying levels of fatigue.

"I'm confident," Ena said. "We managed to tire them out a lot, especially the defenders. There's no reason for us not to score next half."

"We have to give the audience something good to watch," Ookusu chimed in. "They've had a really boring first half so far. Next half will be our time to shine. It'll be time for the sun to shine into their offence, too," he added wickedly.

Fudou clapped him on the back. "You did well, man. The sun didn't faze you at all."

Ookusu nodded. "They were cheering for the first team really hard in the beginning, but they grew really quiet as time passed. We can get them on our side."

"The only problem will be Jimon," Shibuki said matter-of-factly. "We marked him pretty tightly, but if he gets out of our triangle somehow, he'll be very dangerous. He hasn't used any  _hissatsu_  techniques yet, after all."

"Everyone else has, so they're likely to make him the focal point of attack in the next half," Fudou said. "We're going to have to step up defence on that side, and we have to watch Sakiyama as well. That guy's pretty rough."

He clapped Gouin on the shoulder as well. "You defended well, guys. We'll take more of the burden off you in the second half. The key word for the next half is 'possession', got it? We're going to keep the ball in the midfield. We're going to attack carefully but intensely. We don't run back if they steal the ball, we hustle them."

"Are you tired, Fudou?" Hikara asked him curiously. "You looked slower. We can help you cover, you know."

"No," Fudou stressed, though he sat down. "I'll be fine." He reconsidered, and admitted, "Well, help would be good."

Hyoudou finally spoke. "I think Jimon is going to try to score more in the next half," he said. "Numata, Yuasa, I'll need your help if he does."

"Yes," Fudou said. "Yuasa, if Jimon's close to the goal and has the ball, drop Sakuma immediately. His left leg shots are weak and Gouin will come to close down his right side. Shibuki and Hikara will deal with Doumen."

"We are going to kill their defence," Ookusu said with a wicked grin. "We are so going to. Are you pumped, guys? Because I can see it. I never would have thought it, but I think we can actually win."


	21. How Far We've Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see how far we've come.

As he expected, the first team came at them slower and more carefully in the second half. They were tiring, and the lack of subs available was taking its toll. The sun in their face probably didn't help matters, either.

What he didn't expect, though, was that they'd switched Sakiyama to playmaker position to replace Sasaki. The change had thrown him off and he'd lost the ball to him. Now he was backpedalling furiously, trying to stop him before he could do too much damage. Literally.

He ran at Sakiyama from the right, forcing him to go left. Takanashi was comfortably on Sasaki, looking like she was having a ball. Well, he had to admit that after her entire first half of marking Sakiyama, she was well within her rights to do just that. Shibuki stood between Sakiyama and Jimon, and behind him, Numata and Kawakami escorted Jimon to wherever he wanted to go, making sure they were always in the way to prevent an easy pass. The left side was choked.

Sakiyama was taking too long to make a decision, and Fudou went in for an easy tackle (from behind, he didn't want to be in the receiving end of a Judge Through move again) to force him to make a move.

Sakiyama stuttered (inexperience, Fudou concluded smugly) before sending a back pass to Narukami. He and the other wing-back were running down to attack now, but Fudou had gone over this scenario earlier in the locker room, and was pleased to see his team immediately adjust to the new developments. Hikara and Takanashi ran up to mark them, while the second team defenders also took up their men.

Takanashi didn't let Narukami get far without trying a  _hissatsu_  technique of her own. She executed a beautiful Cyclone (much better than the Big Lips defender had done in the first half, in Fudou's opinion), leaving Narukami standing shocked as she zipped past him with the ball. The second team offence was back on track again.

¥

If the first team was going to go all-out on attack, the second team would respond in kind. Takanashi and Hikara drifted closer to the middle, and Kawakami and Gouin ran up the field, overlapping to join in on the attack. They blew past the first-team wing-backs with the advantage of surprise, and were able to help Takanashi get past another defender before Narukami and Gojou finally caught up with them. They didn't have the ball, though, because Takanashi did, and all the defenders in her wake watched helplessly as she leaped into the air and executed a perfect Back Tornado shot.

Genda leaped up and slammed his fist into the ground, and Fudou silently lauded Takanashi. Her shot had been impressive enough for him to use a  _hissatsu_  technique. The ball skeetered along the edge of the shockwaves for a moment, before flying off into the other direction. The crowd sighed, but Fudou had never been so impressed.

The ball stopped at Ookusu's feet. He jumped up into the air with a whoop, and Fudou backed off towards the side slightly, anticipating the rebound. Even with defenders swarming around him, the forward managed to send off a "Hyakuretsu… Shot!" with the greatest amount of sparks and pizzazz he had ever seen, and Genda barely managed to react in time with another Full Power Shield. Then Genda realised his mistake.

Fudou smirked. There was a whole lot of empty space where the ball was gonna roll, and he was the first in line to take advantage of it. Keeping his eyes on the ball, Fudou ran in, weaving in between and around the rapidly advancing defenders. His feet found the ball before they reached him.

"Ena! Ookusu!" He launched the ball straight in front of him.

"Triple Boost!"

Ookusu slowed as the ball approached him, and passed it to Ena. The older striker brought his leg back just as the shot reached him, and sent the ball careening towards the goalmouth with perfect form. Genda, still recovering, could not react in time, and the ball kept going until it rotated madly against the net.

The announcer went nuts, yelling something Fudou couldn't make out, and the second team yelled their hearts out. Amidst the cheers of the audience, Ena and Ookusu jogged back, giving each other high fives, and clapped both sides of Fudou's shoulders. And Fudou finally allowed some of that triumph from the end of the first half to seep through. They had finally taken first blood, and the score was now 1-0. The second team was in the lead.

¥

Jimon restarted play with a grim face. Some of the first team players still looked stunned, and Fudou didn't blame them. Who would have thought that the second team would have been able to hold their first team, once-winner of the Football Frontier, to a draw in the first half? And then score the first goal? If they thought that was it for the surprises, though, they were dead wrong.

Sakiyama passed to Sasaki, and Takanashi was on him in an instant. Fudou watched as Sasaki ran forward… and then faltered.

That was Fudou's cue. He ran ahead, trusting Takanashi on this one, and was rewarded. With a gleeful cackle, she relieved Sasaki of the ball and sent it flying towards him. Conscious of Sakiyama running up to tackle him, Fudou sent the ball towards Ena in a smooth one-two before upping his pace and getting out of the way. The ball flit around the pitch, first back to Takanashi and then to Ena again, as they worked together to avoid the first team defenders' block  _hissatsu_  techniques. (Seriously, how did they still have the energy to dish them out?) Then Ena sent the ball to Fudou, who was ready to execute Triple Boost another time.

Genda ran out of goal, and Fudou briefly wondered if he could get in a cheeky long-range shot. Before he could consider the idea further, though, he got a Spinning Cut right in in the gut.

Fudou flew through the air and the ball flew to Genda's feet. When he got up, he met Genda's gaze just before the goalkeeper sent the ball out. The message behind Genda's smirk was clear: That wasn't going to work on him again.

¥

Genda sent the ball to Big Den. (Huh, Big Den and Big Lips. The perfect fullback team.) The firsts spread out, though noticeably slower than in the first half, and the seconds followed suit. Big Den sent a pass across the field that arced beautifully and landed perfectly at Gojou's feet.

Hikara ran up to challenge him. As Fudou tailed Sakiyama, watching the scene unfold, he couldn't help but think that the bespectacled player was smiling.

"Got him!" Ookusu ran up from behind, clearly intending to go for a tackle. "You deal with their offence!"

Hikara nodded, turning to look for Doumen, and that was when Gojou struck.

At the right moment, he burst forward. Ookusu's feet never reached their target, and Hikara was running the wrong way. Gojou must have been observing what was happening around him, the creepy smile on his face all the while. Fudou couldn't suppress a shiver.

With the large gap created by the confusion, it was child's play for Doumen to receive the ball (with a triumphant smirk, that little shit). And then, there was a movement from the corner of Fudou's eye.

"WATCH JIMON!" he yelled out, but his heart was already sinking. Jimon faked out the men on him and zipped out, managing to meet up with his two teammates. The defence scrambled back, eager to make up for their complacence or just Jimon's herculean efforts or, hell, maybe he'd made it worse by shouting out like that.

Whatever it had been, it was too late to worry about it. Fudou could only make sure that Sakiyama was nowhere near the goal and watch as Sakuma, Jimon, and Doumen all rose into the air, spinning. As gamely as Hyoudou applied himself to block the Death Zone, he stood no chance, and the first team equalised, making the score 1-1.

¥

The stands roared! Sure, they'd been loud when the seconds had scored, but that was a whisper compared to the racket they were making now. And the firsts were more spirited, more energetic now that they'd managed to equalise. Well, you would be, wouldn't you?

The teams took the starting position once again. Fudou could swear that Sakiyama was gloating behind his hair and mask as he waited for the kickoff. With the sun in the first team's offence now, he was one of the few who wasn't affected by it. No big deal, only the playmaker, the person who coordinated the first team's offence… And he was a lot better than the guy from the first half, too.

Fudou shook his head. Now wasn't the time to mourn tactics that had turned out to be less effective than hoped.

Ena sent the ball to him and headed up the field. Fudou advanced, waiting for the action to unfold before passing left to Hikara. Compared to the rushing they'd done in the first half, this was slower, more focused, more deliberate. Hikara followed, looking for the right moment to send it back to the middle, but he fumbled, and Doumen stole the ball from under his feet. So far, so bad. But what happened next was so bizarre that Fudou couldn't really blame him in the end.

Reeling, Hikara spun around, pulled one arm back, and punched the ground. Fudou had seen that technique before, in Shin Teikoku. How the little guy managed to make you feel like millions of arms were pulling you into the ground he didn't want to know.

At that exact moment, the ball disappeared. No, that wasn't right. Doumen had stopped, but it wasn't because of Hikara's  _hissatsu_  technique. He was in the middle of a deep breath, the ball on his mouth somehow shrinking. Then he threw his body forward and let it all out.

The ball swelled to an impossible size. The hands crawling up to Doumen's feet were sent back by the impact as it burst with a smack. Hikara had to stop running just to avoid getting blown back.

It took a yell from Takanashi to bring him back into the game. After all, despite that show, Doumen had only overtook one player. And with his next opponent being Gouin…

Fudou predicted the pass to Sakiyama just a moment too late, and Sakiyama caught it without stumbling. But Fudou was already on his case, ready to tackle him for the ball. The only thing running through his mind was whether he should attempt a Killer Slide. Teach him to throw it around so much.

Sakiyama tipped the ball forward, just barely out of Fudou's reach. Ah. How could Fudou have forgotten to consider that?

"Judge Through 2!" Sakiyama went for the tackle first, despite him having the ball, but Fudou was unable to consider the implications of that as the ball found his gut and he was thrown into the air.

"Don't… underestimate… the first team!" Sakiyama yelled as he pummeled the ball, and Fudou, with what felt like a thousand kicks. Fudou jerked up and down in the air, wondering just how Sakiyama had managed to upgrade his _hissatsu_ technique in the middle of a game and also where the hell the ref was.

With one final punt, Sakiyama sent Fudou flying back into his defence, and he landed sorely on his tailbone. There was nothing for a few moments except darkness and a numb ache. When Fudou opened his eyes, he twisted his head around furiously, looking for Sakiyama.

Someone slapped the side of his head, and he turned in fury.

Takanashi was unperturbed by his glare. She held her hand out, looking more impatient with each passing moment, and he took it. A second later, he realised what exactly made Takanashi so good at football. Something was brewing in his heart, something he couldn't identify, but he knew now that he didn't have the time to figure out what it was.

¥

Fortunately, surprisingly (though Fudou felt a little bad after thinking this), the ball was still stuck in the first line of their defence. Shibuki had managed to take the ball back, and was living up to his reputation, performing complex tricks with such ease that it made Fudou jealous. (A small part of him wondered how Cap felt watching this, and he immediately felt a little better.)

He made the sign.

Kawakami gaped, and then nodded. That was right. This moment wasn't going to last forever.

Before the first team wised up, Kawakami slipped past his mark and sprinted up the right flank. The first team were too occupied with their offence to react immediately. Fudou dropped Sakiyama, too, advancing up the field, and Shibuki struck.

He tapped the ball up so that it was at his chest level (so, eye level for the first-team players on him) and curled in on himself. His hands and arms went last, gripping the sides of knees tightly and remaining fully visible so that there was no way the ref could call a handball.

"Super Armadillooooo!"

His position muffled his baritone, making his yell sound like a war horn. Shibuki rolled forward like the power of his voice was propelling him. The strikers who were still trying to get at him were completely floored.

Takanashi and Hikara stayed behind to mop up the damage, while Shibuki continued to barrel up the centre of the field, overtaking even Fudou. Fudou followed him up, just about making out the commentator yelling that Shibuki wasn't all tricks. He couldn't suppress a smirk.

Eventually, even Shibuki had to run out of steam, and he rolled perfectly into a standing position and kicked the ball to Fudou. Takanashi and Hikara were on their way up now, but Fudou's mind wasn't on them as he spun and sent the ball streaking up, to the right, aimed squarely between two of the first-team defence to reach Kawakami, still running like his life depended on it.

Ena made a quick cut forwards, so that Genda was the only thing between him and the goal, and Kawakami passed. Even before the ball reached him, Ena was already moving his leg back, back so far he could have found a part-time job at the circus. Then, just like a spring, his leg bounced back.

"Grenade… SHOT!"

Fudou slowed down to a jog and checked that he was ready to cover in case of deflection. He needn't have bothered. The second goal whipped the stands into a frenzy, and Fudou found himself thinking of Ookusu, and how glad he must be feeling to be a part of this show. And then Takanashi slapped his shoulder, and he looked at her, and at his team beyond. She gave him a high five, and Fudou returned it, smile widening into a grin, his chest threatening to explode and the humming of his soul louder than the cheers outside.

¥

They quickly settled down. By the time they stood ready for the next kickoff, the second team knew what they had to do. Even Ookusu had accepted it as a necessary evil for the greater good.

Jimon kicked off, and the seconds pounced.

Fudou had sneaked a glance at the stadium clock just before they took their position. The others had followed his lead.

There were only a few minutes left in the game. A few minutes, with the seconds leading by 1 goal. And there was absolutely no way that the seconds would give that goal up now.

Numata, Shibuki, and Kawakami (the latter two fully recovered from their stint in offence) were practically attached to Jimon now, and the frustration on the striker's face was clear as he tried to weasel away from his marks. Sakiyama was so aggressive with the tackles that Takanashi's influence was the only thing preventing Fudou from giving him a good deck, and Ena and Ookusu fell back to behind the halfway line to help with the defence. Gouin must have been saving his energy reserves for this moment, because right now he seemed like he was everywhere, flitting between Sakuma, Sakiyama, and Doumen when needed. And, as always, whenever the firsts managed to get their offence going, they were herded to the right, where Gouin and Yuasa relieved them of the ball.

The seconds kept going, spurred on by the seconds ticking down. The next play would be the last. The next play would surely be the last, wouldn't it?

Henmi brought the ball up this time, the haughty expression on his face mixed with a wild glint in his eyes. Sakiyama drifted to the left, and Fudou made the decision to stay on him. If Henmi didn't have anyone to pass to, his run would be stopped eventually.

Doumen started towards the right, and, like he'd instructed, Gouin was on him in an instant. But it had been a feint. With a twirl, Doumen angled his tiny body towards the left and made the cut. Gouin couldn't turn in time. As he chased after Doumen, Fudou's stomach dropped.

"WATCH OUT!"

But neither Gouin nor Hikara could stop themselves. The two of them collided, Hikara fortunately not flying very far, and Doumen was free. Yuasa ran in to take him, but Doumen was ready for that and passed the ball to a waiting Sakuma.

The ball landed at Sakuma's feet, and, finally, for the first time in the game, he surpassed Fudou's expectations of him and actually did something. He focused, and moved so quickly that it looked like there were three of him, passing the ball to each other and over Yuasa's dumbfounded head. He broke past him and stumbled into a 1-on-1 with the keeper, and if the situation hadn't been so urgent, Fudou would have found the utterly gobsmacked expression on his face absolutely priceless.

Fudou sprinted towards them. He saw Shibuki wavering and made a split-second decision. "STAY ON JIMON!" he roared, and the defence obeyed him instantly, locking him up and allowing Sakuma to continue his run.

Though he was too far to make a difference to the actual play, he tried his damn hardest to prevent Sakiyama from doing the same. After all, since they'd played so long and so hard, the game had to be theirs… right? He saw Yuasa push himself off the ground and lurch at Sakuma, and Hyoudou running up to intercept the ball. Ookusu barrelled past him towards them at lightning speed, yelling at the top of his lungs even though all of them knew he wouldn't be able to make it in time. Sakuma continued, dodging Yuasa and dribbling off to the right. To Fudou's left, Jimon strained to escape the three-man mark. And behind all of them, the first-team midfielders and defenders were running in, hoping that one of them would be able to reach the area in time.

Hyoudou threw himself into a sliding tackle, intent on doing something—anything—to stop Sakuma. And Fudou finally got close enough to see the expression on Sakuma's face. It was familiar, the very same expression he'd had in the dying moments of Shin Teikoku's game against Raimon all those months ago. Before Hyoudou could reach him, he took a step forward, pulled his right foot back, and executed his shot.

Everyone could do nothing but watch as the ball curled up towards the goal, up, up higher, way past the goal posts and into the stands.

Sakuma fell to his knees, pounding the astro turf with his fists, and Fudou's heart jumped into his throat.

The whistle sounded, the stands screamed, and the world stood still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shibuki: Captain thought my _hissatsu_ was dumb… (ಥ_ಥ)
> 
> ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ It's OK Shibuki, you're part of Team M4 ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
> 
> Fudou: Please don't tell me you only updated so quickly so that you could make that already dated reference… You're already a game behind!
> 
> At least I'm not two! Two more days until _Twitch Plays Pokemon Platinum_!


	22. Dreaming in Déjà Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the day, after the sun is in bed, the sky is this electric blue.

"How was it?" Fudou asked the assistant coach when he saw him. But he already knew the answer, because the man had on a smile so wide it was threatening to break through his face.

"You're a shoo-in, Fudou-kun. Congratulations. You were superb." The man paused, his mouth opening and shutting in quick succession as he struggled to find words to say.

"Your tactics were very interesting," he finally said. "You made quite an impression on the coach. You couldn't have chosen a better way to do that."

¥

"They gave me the scholarship," Fudou told Hibiki over a bowl of miso ramen. Then he stood up and bowed. His mohawk hung down until it reached his eyes and tickled his nose.

When he straightened up, he said, "I really have to thank you. Without you, I would still be in the streets. I'd probably be in a den getting high and only thinking of my next dose."

Embarrassed, he slipped into his seat again and began to eat. That had been way too much sentiment for a year, let alone a minute. He avoided meeting Hibiki's eyes, instead focusing on the wonderful bursts of flavour in the soup. Since his talk with the head coach, he had been on a high that even the best drug he could imagine couldn't beat.

"Do you like the flavours?" Hibiki instead asked. "I think they turned out pretty well. I'm going to debut the flavour next week. It's got the right balance of moderation and excitement, doesn't it?"

And Fudou finally understood.

"Screw you," he muttered, glad to be back in the familiar ground of Hibiki saying cryptic things and being too nosy and opinionated for his own good. "Seriously, thanks though."

"You're welcome," Hibiki said. "And now I have a proposition for you."

"What is it?" he asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"The middle school football season in Japan is over for the year," Hibiki said, "but the international football season is about to begin. They're going to make the Football Frontier into an international tournament open to U-15s of all nations, and I'm in charge of recruiting for Japan. It won't be for a few months, but I'm extending an official invitation to you to try out for the team."

Fudou paused. Hibiki waited patiently. Then Fudou laughed. He laughed until he cried.

¥

The night of his victory, he moved out of Takanashi's basement and finally went home. Frankly, he didn't know what to expect. His parents might be eternally disappointed in him and have given up all hope, as evidenced by the fact that they hadn't called him in three days. His mother might yell at him until he felt like leaving again. His dad might drag him in with that freakish unexpected strength of his and never let him leave ever again. He didn't know, but he would have to go there to find out.

Mr. Takanashi drove him to his house and watched as he rang the doorbell. The door opened, and he came face to face with his mother. She looked unsurprised, which made him suspect that Mr. Takanashi had snitched on him.

Her face crumpled. "Akio, Akio…" she said for a few minutes, just holding him in a tight hug. It was uncomfortable and made his bag buckle press against his shoulder blade, but he eventually relaxed into it. His father appeared moments later, and watched them from a spot further up the hallway.

"Your mentor, Hibiki-san," he said, looking uncertain. "He dropped by yesterday and explained things to us. Did you get the scholarship, then?"

"Yes," Fudou said. "The game was today."

His mother gasped, and hugged him even harder. "I knew it. I knew it, Akio. I'm so proud of you. So, so proud. You are such a strong boy. I never believed for a moment that you couldn't do it. I'm so proud of you. Now you can go back to playing football again, like it was before. Aren't you happy?"

"Congratulations, Akio," his father said in the background, but those two words, tinged with regret and pride, resonated in him more than his mother's. At the same time, though… she was his mother.

He hugged her back, and caught his father's gaze. His father gave him an almost imperceptible nod, and the barrier that had stood between for them so long crashed away.

As he was led into the house, Fudou vaguely registered the sound of a car driving away.

¥

"Oh, by the way," Hibiki said a few days later when he was bumming at his store again. There was another customer there, so Fudou couldn't be as candid with him as he usually was. Or so he thought.

"Right, here's your miso ramen," Hibiki switched tack and said to the customer. He hefted a heavy bowl of noodles onto the counter in front of him. The customer was a small shrimpy guy with a weird, almost French kind of moustache, and he looked SO EXCITED to be having this ramen.

Hibiki switched back to talking to Fudou. "Yeah. I was cleaning up the storeroom the other day, and I found a necklace. Cap told me you were looking for one. Wouldn't happen to be yours, would it?"

Fudou cursed Cap for being so free with his words under his breath. He smirked. "Don't know. Don't care." He wasn't lying, too.

"If you say so. Also, it's not up for debate, but I'm going to pay for your tattoo removal."

Fudou stared up at him. He had been to a few places and looked at a few quotes himself, and had balked at the prices. "Wow. Thanks, Hibiki."

"No problem," Hibiki replied. "Just see it as a reward for having come so far. That tattoo really did need to go, anyway. Can't have a punk running around representing Japan on the world stage."

Fudou shook his head. So many things ran through his mind, but at the same time, he knew that he didn't have to say any of them. Except for one.

"You will never catch me saying this ever again," he said, and repeated it for good measure, "but am I ever so fucking glad that that night, I happened to run into this fucking ramen store. I am so fucking glad."

"You were not the only one who hid in my store," Hibiki said. "Remember that."

¥

Shogo invited him to an elementary school game. "I joined the football team. I was good enough to be chosen to play. It's true. It's all thanks to you, Fudou!"

Fudou chuckled. "What position are you?"

"They have me playing forward," Shogo said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "They play a three-top and I'm on the side. My job is to run in from the side and make chances, or to pass to the centre-forward."

Cap whistled. "Man, Fudou, you've really taught him well."

"But of course," he said with mock superiority. "I am a genius."

"No you ain't," Cap said. "I'm still a regular benchwarmer. Guess I'll never play in official matches and represent my school."

Fudou shrugged. "If you want, I can teach you some moves. School starts next week, though, so it's gotta be in the afternoons."

"I'm good," Cap said. "I think I might quit and just be a manager. And maybe join the shogi club. I've been playing my brother, and apparently I'm really good."

Wait. Fudou paused. This was news to him. "You have a brother?"

"Well, yeah." Cap sounded slightly put off. "You didn't know?"

"You never said," he replied, and Shogo nodded in assent. ("I didn't know either.") "Where's he then? I never see him at your place. Does he live outside of home?"

"He's been in the hospital for a while… He OD'd on drugs a while back."

"Oh," Fudou said, and it was all he could say, really. "I'm sorry."

Cap slugged him in the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He's getting much better. He's going to be discharged in a week or two."

They walked along the path for a while longer in silence, and then Fudou said, "Oh yeah. Have you heard from Takanashi lately? I mean, I know that she's on the first team for rugby now, but she's been busy lately. She hasn't been texting me."

"Yes, actually." Cap took out his phone and showed Fudou and Shogo a message on it. "She said that she's been getting a lot of interest from other schools after the Teikoku match. She didn't want to tell you before she actually got anything concrete, but she never told me not to…" He smiled crookedly. "She's really grateful to you. Rugby just wasn't the same, you know?"

"Wow," Fudou said, a multitude of emotions running through him at once. "That's pretty awesome. I'm glad for her. We should hit her up and give her some tips, in case she needs to try out."

Cap shrugged. "Maybe. She'll ask us if she needs to."

"Hey, Cap…" Shogo's voice was sickly sweet as he dangled Cap's phone from between his thumb and index finger. He positioned his body between Cap and Fudou and showed Fudou the message. Cap realised what it was too late, and Fudou snatched the phone from Shogo and held it far, far away from him, until he read the message several more times and believed that what he was seeing was actually real.

He turned to Cap with a smirk and saw Shogo's equally smug smirk (good student, this one). "Never would have guessed it. You sly dog, you've been going behind our backs, haven't you?"

"This explains everything," Shogo added. "It totally explains why she's been talking to you way more than with us! When's your first date?"

Cap turned red, and, for the first time, appeared at a loss for words. "We went to have lunch a few days ago," he said stiffly. "It was good."

"She dressed up? Was she hot?" Fudou asked, smirk growing wider.

"No, but quite pretty. Her hair was down. It was really nice," Cap admitted, glancing away. "I don't know, man. Stay out of it. I'll figure this out by myself."

Fudou shrugged. "I will. But you better know this. Even though you're one of my closest friends, so is she. I'm not going to make the lame threats that you always see in the movies, but she and I run almost as tight as you and I, and her dad's done a lot for me. We run way back into Shin Teikoku as well. She's like a sister to me. So be careful and don't do stupid shit to hurt her feelings."

Cap folded his arms. His mouth was clamped shut, and Fudou could see the retort he was struggling to keep in. Finally, he relaxed, and smirked. "I got you. Now can we change the topic?"

"No," Fudou said, slinging an arm round Cap's shoulders. "She really likes ducks. She has like a billion of them in the house. You could start there."

¥

They were just about to part ways when Cap stopped. "So. You guys good for football on Saturday again?"

Fudou shrugged. "I'm ready whenever you are. Bring your friends too. The more the merrier, right?"

Cap gaped. "You sure? I thought we all sucked too much for you. You just keep me around because I'm too nice."

"If they want to come, they can. It'll be fun," Fudou said again, and Cap's lips curled upwards.

"So, I finally won you over with how shit I was. You don't have to be good at something to love it."

"Whatever." Fudou made to leave.

"Well, see you on Saturday then!" Cap called out to his retreating back. "Don't regret your decision!"

Fudou smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cliche ending? Possibly, but I don't think there's any way I could do lasting damage to Fudou.
> 
> Thank you so much to all of you who've read, left kudos, and commented! It's been a great experience writing this story, though it (the experience, not the story, I hope!) admittedly stretched out too long... (my fault entirely)
> 
> I have a few one-shots related to this planned after this, but they will probably take ages to come. If you'd like to see some other POVs/scenes/whatever in more detail/alternate POVs, feel free to message me or hit me up on my tumblr (yowhapedal).
> 
> BTW, I made a mix for this fanfic. Here: http://8tracks.com/vanerz/renegade


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